


Parchment

by madilynevening



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Azkaban, Cigarettes, Dark Mark, Death Eater Trials, Death Eaters, F/M, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Love Triangles, Parchment, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-War, PostWar, Slow Burn, Violence, mystery relationships for the characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:27:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29541645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madilynevening/pseuds/madilynevening
Summary: In the midst of the Death Eater trials, Draco is forced to return to Hogwarts as the countdown to his trial begins. The air around him becomes thin and he begins to suffocate within the walls of the school, but what happens when there is a breath of fresh air?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains strong language and violence which may be unsuitable for readers under the age of 18. Reader discretion is advised.

It took weeks for Hogwarts to look as it did before the war. Parts of the castle were completely destroyed, rubble blocking and covering the floor where the students used to walk. The delicately crafted window panes shattered, only to be seen crushed below a shoe while walking throughout the school—a crunch at each step. Spots on the cold stone, below a wondering individual, laid a person's blood soaked into the ground from someone brave enough to fight. Ministry workers, professors, some students, and anyone who was willing to help worked diligently on Hogwarts and Hogsmeade till it looked normal, as though the war never happened. 

When the Ministry of Magic was recovered, the citizens were irate with the government and began making demands—heavy sentences for Death Eaters, raise the restrictions for the Wizarding community once more, and to send relief money to those who were affected. It took months for the Ministry to stabilize and be able to meet the top demands of what was asked.

The Ministry, also, made it their top priority to find the remaining Death Eaters, a harder task than expected. Two well known Death Eaters—Draco and Lucious Malfoy—revealed as much information as they told they knew to help their case; many of the Death Eaters caught were being sentenced to life in Azkaban. With this knowledge, the Ministry was able to find about a third of the Death Eaters but many had vanished and disguised themselves in with the population.

Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley became Aurors without taking their N.E.W.T.s. This, of course, was a relief to the men, and gladly accepted the job since it meant they didn't have to return and finish their seventh year. The pair helped in the task of finding the remaining Death Eaters and seemed to be anywhere other than home.

While Ron and Harry were not fond of returning to school, Hermione Granger was well pleased. She even got chosen to be Head Girl for the year alongside Blaise Zabini, who was chosen for Head Boy. Hermione had bright plans for her future and even though she would've been accepted for any job she wanted at the Ministry, she wanted to complete her schooling before doing so. 

As for Penelope Burton, she would be another student returning to Hogwarts. She grew up close with Harry, Ron, and Hermione and fought alongside them in the war. Hermione was delighted to hear Penelope was going back and completing her seventh year, especially since Ron and Harry chose not to.

Throughout their years at Hogwarts, Penelope was often compared to Hermione due to her record and grades being nearly perfect. As expected, Hermione's grades were consistently higher but Penelope never felt the need to be in competition with her friend; Hermione was always willing to prove her intelligence while Penelope just loved learning to the point where many wondered why she wasn't placed in Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor.

The first of September arrived, the day the students were to finally return to Hogwarts. Many hadn't seen it since it was virtually destroyed months back. With a squeeze from both of Penelope's parents, Penelope boarded the train and sat in a compartment with Ginny Weasley, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood. Hermione peaked her head in before the train departed to apologize but she had Head Girl business to attend to.

Penelope had gotten close with those who sat in her compartment during her sixth year but, sadly, didn't have the same chance the year after since she was traveling with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. It was a bit strange to her since she was a considerably quiet person.

Dean became one of her closest friends; she had always admired how his education meant a great deal to him unlike many boys in her year. Later that year, Seamus confessed his feelings for Penelope which made for some discomfort in the common room after explaining how her feelings were not in the same place. This, of course, didn't stop him from trying to gain her affection, and she was utterly impressed with his determination, but never felt anything more than friendship for the man.

Neville was another boy who expressed his feelings for the girl during their sixth year, one of many girls that year, but later admitted the reason for such a confession was due to his grandmother wanting him to ask out a girl he was close to.

The conversations between those in the compartment of the train were never dull, almost enough for the students to not realize the train departed. Neville babbled on about how he helped fix Hogwarts for weeks and then began interning at the Department of Mysteries, but he later explained he couldn't work there full time till he finished school. Luna told her friends she was studying magical creatures throughout her summer. After, Seamus spoke stubbornly about being turned down from becoming an Auror like Harry and Ron. Then next was Ginny, who complained she had to turn down an opportunity to become an Auror because her mother wanted her to complete school, causing Seamus to gasp in jealousy. Dean expressed his excitement to return to school and to eventually work for the Ministry. Although Penelope enjoyed listening to her friends, she eventually mentioned her excitement to return to school as well. 

After finishing school, she planned to become the Head of the Auror Office and then work under the Minister of Magic at some point in her life. She was aware her aspirations were—what many would consider—ridiculous, frequently stopping her from telling those who asked, besides Hermione who was completely supportive. Many just assumed she wanted to become a silly little office worker—she knew it was just easier to agree. She didn't need other people's reassurance.

Shortly after catching each other up, Seamus began laying his flirting on thick with Penelope. He expressed his admiration for her straight, honey brown hair and explained his joy of watching the sun reflect off her pale face—which was a bit odd to her since she had always thought her complexion made her look a bit sick. Although her skin was not nearly as pale as another man in her year, someone who many were unsure of was returning. A nudge from Dean silenced him for the time being.

An hour into the trip, Neville pulled out a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ , freshly printed with the title:

**TRIAL BEGINS FOR FORMER DEATH EATERS**

Once unfolded, the back page revealed the list of strict rules the Ministry had put into place to capture the remaining Death Eaters; the Wizarding community got letters directly over the summer to make all citizens aware. Before Neville had the chance to read, Ginny snatched the paper, informing the group of the fiction being printed. 

Nearly two hours into the trip, a Ravenclaw Prefect came racing down the corridor, stopping at nearly every compartment, eventually arriving at Penelope's.

"You will never guess—who boarded—the train." She huffed, trying to catch her breath. Everyone shrugged lightly at the girl. She was becoming known as one of the school's biggest gossipers, much of what was told was not imperative to hear. "Draco Malfoy—the Death Eater!" A moment after delivering the information, she dashed away to inform other students of the news.

Of course, everyone in their compartment knew who Draco was and what he became. This didn't stop Seamus from spewing nonsense from his mouth, letting it be known Draco was a traitor.

"I'm a bit surprised Draco is returning. Doesn't seem quite like something he would do in the midst of the trials." Dean's voice was low. 

Penelope removed her eyes from the window. "I'm sure the Ministry insisted he return."

"Well, the _Daily Prophet_ said the Ministry was planning on using the cruciatus curse on the Death Eaters to get more information. Guess it's what those killers deserve." Seamus's smug look vanished as he was kicked by Ginny.

____

____

"Don't spread lies, Seamus. My father says the _Prophet_ is milking the trials to get more readers. You can't trust anything they put out."

"You're going to defend them? They murdered your brother." Seamus hissed.

"Shut up, Seamus. Say one more word about my brother and your body will be thrown out of the train." 

They all were thinking it—a Death Eater was on the train. Rumors were spread around about the number of deaths caused due to Draco's wand. Each time the conversation was brought up between students, it seemed the number always increased. And it was hard not to believe the rumors, Draco had the dark mark carved into his skin. The majority of students loathed Draco. Only a small number of students believed Harry when he informed them that Draco wasn't a bad person, instead, just had bad influences. 

Although surrounded by drama, Penelope believed in keeping to herself. Any business involving Draco Malfoy and the Death Eaters were not hers to share; she was not involved. She thought it was a bit unfair to judge Draco when clearly the school forgave him enough to allow him back.

After hours passed, the train arrived at Hogsmeade Station. The students grabbed their things and boarded the carriages which took them up to Hogwarts, some watching as the Thestrals pulled. Penelope thought the school looked just as it did before the war, which was a bit strange to her. In her mind, clearly, she would've wanted Hogwarts to look the same as it did before the war—to look like the school she attended as a kid—but a small piece of her felt like a piece of history was erased. 

Her thoughts vanished as she knew it was selfish to think such a thing.

First-year students were sorted into their houses and an encouraging speech from the new headmistress, Professor McGonagall, was given before food appeared in front of the students.

Conversations around Penelope seemed to only be about the Death Eater in the room—Draco Malfoy. Seamus kept adding to the conversation with rumors he had heard about Draco while Draco was away. Seamus kept glancing at Penelope, who sat across from him, to see her reaction as if he was trying to impress her. 

The thought made her feel quite sick—that Seamus would believe tearing down a man would impress her. Harry was one of her closest friends and she believed him; Draco was not a bad person. Yet, not one person at the table told Seamus to give it a rest. And what irked her the most was the obvious glances Seamus would give while looking at Draco, making it clear to the man across the room that he was the conversation topic.

A light lift of her head was all she gave to see the man for herself. The pale man looked desolate and isolated, similar to the end of their sixth year. His blonde hair fell in front of his face like drapes along a window as he looked down. Penelope couldn't make out what was lying in front of him but he despised the sight. He also barely cared to speak to his friends even as he sat in the center of the blather, almost as though he was in his own world, careless of the ones around.

He knew eyes were on him. He didn't care. Opinions of him were the last thing on his mind since Theo had brought him the _Prophet_ on the train, plastered to the front page was a picture of him and his parents.

**TRIAL BEGINS FOR FORMER DEATH EATERS**

An image replayed of his father shoving a camera back as they surged out of the Ministry.

As the paper lay in front of him, he picked apart all the flaws till he felt he was nothing but a pale boy, walking alongside his parents like some sort of lost pet. It was quite revolting to watch but his eyes remained.

"What's going to happen to Draco?" Voices nearby floated around him. Bodies spewing the voices were wasted space, essentially muggles in his mind.

A tingling sensation hit his arm, causing his attention to shift. He itched his forearm through his sleeve till it felt raw. The bloody thing couldn't stop feeling like it was carving into his skin constantly. When _He_ went away, the stabbing pain vanished, but a deeper, more intense pain appeared as though the mark was being freshly added every minute. Each day, it was becoming fainter but not nearly enough. Bloody fucking annoying.

The food in front of him didn't seem to spark the attention of the other students at his table. They were discussing their own family issues. They either knew of someone who was being affected or their own parents were enduring it.

He let his eyes wander once around the room, but he quickly became jealous. The other tables had no problems as severe as his. And comparing their problems to his didn't make him feel any better, they knew nothing about _real problems_.

The emotion didn't last long as Theodore Nott snatched the paper from beneath him. 

Theo had thick, dark brown hair that curled just at the tips. His skin was flawless and a bit tan—something he must have picked up over the summer—as well as a perfect jawline and smile. He was easily known as one of the best looking men in their year. But Penelope could see past his pretty boy exterior and could tell he believed he was superior in every sense of the word, easily putting her off.

"Stop dwelling. At least you look good, mate." Theo remarked, keeping his smirk to a minimum as he watched the image replay.

"Piss off." The paper was now back in Draco's possession, rolled up next to his side.

"Sensitive. Always love to see this side of you." 

"Don't you have someone else to pester?" Draco's voice was harsh, but that didn't seem to bother Theo.

"No one nearly as entertaining as you."

Blaise Zabini walked over and joined the table and sat across from the two men. 

"Sorry, Head Boy things." Blaise greeted, arrogantly.

He was another man who many of the girls found alluring. Blaise was a tall, dark man with a chiseled jawline and high cheekbones. He was known for keeping a clean record, a bit odd to Penelope since he ran with a crowd like Draco and Theo.

"What possible gain do you receive to make you believe becoming Head Boy was worth it?" Theo questioned, mocking his acceptance of the role.

"Unlike what you think, being chosen for Head Boy is quite an accomplishment. Think about that the next time you are sitting in a common room filled with first years." Bragging came off Blaise's tongue almost too easily. 

"Lucky for me, I know a man who is Head Boy—and acts like an arse—who will be willing to share the Head common room." Theo remarked, smirking as he stared down Blaise.

"It's not just mine. I share it with Granger and I'm unsure if she will want visitors."

"Do it for Draco." Theo's hands met Draco's shoulders, giving them a shake. "He needs a bit of cheering up."

"Piss off." Draco spat.

"Come on, mate. I already told you, you looked irresistible as you strode past all those reporters." Theo mocked. 

"I don't want to be in the bloody paper, you fucking git." Draco adjusted his shoulders till Theo's hands dropped.

"You see? Draco needs a bit of cheering up. We'll meet you tonight." Theo's smirk remained.

Blaise got close to the two sitting across. "Fine, but if you pull anything, I am not covering for you."

The sensation began again on his arm, like a carving knife gliding along his skin. The itching satisfied the pain for a few seconds but an overwhelming pain flushed over. Others around him didn't notice his discomfort. He was used to the pain. Always something he could count on.

It was becoming apparent that Seamus's favorite topic was Draco. He began telling everyone who was willing to listen, which was about half of the table, that Draco used the cruciatus curse on a man for minutes till the man was begging to die. Then, he used the killing curse to finish him off. 

Penelope listened as she gulped down her pumpkin juice to try and stop her from commenting. She found the story outrageous and disgusting to tell, especially to the new first years.

"Where did you hear that, Seamus?" Penelope eventually shouted. She quickly adjusted herself in her seat and placed her used fork on her plate to distract from her shouting.

Everyone who was listening to Seamus, and even the bordering tables around, looked to Penelope.

Dean nudged her. "Are you alright?" It was unusual for Penelope to shout.

"Yes, I'm fine. I didn't mean to shout—I was just curious where Seamus had heard such a story."

"Well—I believe— _erm_ —a Ravenclaw told me." Penelope was aware Seamus was eating up the attention enough to make it up.

"Which Ravenclaw student?" Her eyebrows raised in curiosity while her voice contained a hint of sarcasm. A pause developed as Seamus looked stunned almost as if he was caught.

"Does it matter? Point remains. Draco killed people." 

Penelope sat back as Seamus continued on with another story. An overwhelming amount of anger came over like she was drowning in it. Her breath was erratic, her hands were curled into fists under the table. 

She was shocked at how angry she was, watching as Seamus craved for anyone to listen to his stories—stories she knew he was making up on the spot about a man he knew nothing about. She looked around for Hermione—she should have been back by now. 

Hermione thought similarly to Penelope, making Penelope rely on Hermione's opinion on situations she was unsure about, but Hermione wasn't around.

After dinner, the students walked to their dormitories, and Penelope found the usual four-posted beds arranged around the room. Her roommates for the year were Ginny and a few students who were the same age as the red-headed girl. 

The girls introduced one another and began talking about the classes they were taking for the year. Penelope was surprised at how well the conversation flowed between her and the girls but Ginny got along with them much better, allowing for Penelope to slip away thirty minutes later to go and find the Head common room. There was an hour till curfew and Penelope knew Hermione would abide by the rules so she hurried. 

As she wandered the corridors, she thought about Seamus and his comments about Draco. She thought about how willing the other students were to listen. She thought about how not one person said anything about how horrible the stories were. 

Then it hit her—why did she care so much? Before Draco became a Death Eater, he wasn't any better of a person. Stop. It was none of her business. School was her main priority. That's it.

She turned her last corner to find Draco Malfoy holding his wand to a student's neck as a line of swears escaped his lips. The student stood as high as he could on his toes to try and get out of reach from the wand while his body was shoved against the wall. Draco's words scraped through his teeth as they were crushed together, watching as the student trembled in fear before him.

"Expelliarmus!" Penelope ran over and shoved Draco away from the kid. "What is wrong with you?" Her voice bounced along the empty walls. Draco didn't seem to care he was caught as he stepped back, a smug look appearing on his face. 

What was wrong with him? She's read the _Daily Prophet_ over the break and was aware of his situation, everyone was. Was he willing to throw it away for a student wandering the corridor?

Penelope turned to the kid who rested against the wall with tears streaming down his face. "Why are you in this part of the castle?" 

"I—I'm a Prefect. I—I was t—told to tell the Head Boy if there was a—a problem."

"Forget the problem and forget this happened." She demanded. "Now go."

The student ran down the corridor and disappeared while Draco mindlessly walked over to grab his wand off the floor. He let out a single, self-satisfied chuckle. 

"You thought that was entertaining?"

"I'm unsure what you've heard, but I don't need protection." Draco sneered. "Why are you over here anyhow—Granger, that's right." Penelope nodded sarcastically as though it was none of his business. "You turned away that _pathetic_ Prefect so you can let her know yourself, didn't you?" 

"God, Draco, not everyone is out to get you." Penelope headed for the Head common room door. Draco paused for a moment before following her.

What was she playing at? It was clear how everyone felt about him. Even the fifth year Prefect had the nerve to call him a killer to his face. In that moment, as his wand rested against the student's neck, he could've killed him. _But he didn't_. 

Penelope walked into the common room to find two of Draco's friends sitting on the couch, holding—what was that—cigarettes? _Seriously?_

The common room was comparably smaller to the Gryffindor one, with only two couches in the center and built-in bookcases on either side of the room filled with books and years of dust laying upon them. Two staircases in the back led up to the two bedrooms for the Heads with small windows above the steps, only allowing in a sliver of light when the sun rose. The room was dimly lit, only the flame of the candles around the room gave off any light.

A puff of smoke escaped Theo's mouth. "What can we help you with?" Theo smirked as he looked her up and down. Blaise quickly put out his half-used cigarette and stood up to greet his guest, noticeably worried that the student before him would be bothered by their _activity_. "Don't mind him—is there something you need?" Blaise asked.

"I'm just here to see Hermione. Is she here?"

Blaise pointed up to the room to the right. "Yes, up there."

"Right." Penelope walked through the cloud of smoke and up the stairs.

After the door shut behind Penelope, Theo tossed Draco a cigarette out of a container from his pocket and Blaise sparked the flame.

"What took you so long? Staring at your photo again?" Theo mocked, causing a chuckle to escape his and Blaise's lips.

Draco sat on the couch opposite of the two and sucked in the contents of the stick till he felt his lungs fill completely, then released it after a sting began in his chest—anything to take away from his forearm.

Penelope watched as Hermione sat on her bed, flipping through pages in the six books laying across her bed. She barely even noticed Penelope had walked in.

"Penelope! Sorry, I had Head Girl things to finish and then I had to prepare for classes tomorrow—I almost forgot about Arithmancy!" Hermione hopped off her bed and walked over to her trunk in search of another book.

"That's alright. I actually came to get your opinion on something that happened at dinner—it's right here." Penelope lifted up the book she found on Hermione's dresser.

"Thanks, and yes, I'll give my opinion on anything." Hermione sat back on her bed.

Penelope explained what had happened at dinner and everything Seamus was telling everyone sitting at the Gryffindor table. 

"You heard what Harry told us. You even witnessed it yourself. Draco just had bad influences. As for Seamus, I'm not surprised he's spreading gossip. With Harry gone, I'd assume he wants to fill the spotlight."

"Right, of course." Penelope replied, almost as though she was trying to convince herself. She knew what she saw outside the common room—how Draco looked as he stared down the Prefect. Murder was something she never thought Draco did, but just the thought made a tingle trail her spine. 

She stopped her thoughts once again—it was nothing she needed to worry about. _School first_.

"What do you suppose they're talking about?" Blaise asked.

"Most likely about who they fancy most." Theo chuckled to himself. "Blaise or Draco? Oh my—how will they ever choose?"

Draco sat back deeper as he imagined Penelope telling Hermione about the event with the Prefect—how satisfied Penelope would be after telling Hermione herself. He sucked in what was left of his cigarette till he felt he couldn't breathe anymore, releasing only when the image of her left.

Theo flicked his cigarette. "Only jokes—they would choose me, of course."

The door opened above to find Penelope hurrying down the stairs, waving the smoke from her face.

"So, who did you choose?" Theo asked, seriously.

She glanced over her shoulder. "What?"

"Don't listen to him—have a good night." Blaise said as he stood up. Penelope waved, confused at the formalness, and left the room.

"So gentlemanly." Theo mumbled.

Draco watched for Hermione to open her door and race down to wake Professor McGonagall to inform her of his mishaps. But even after minutes passed, she never left her room. _Curious._ Did she not tell?


	2. Chapter 2

All the students went down for breakfast and received their schedules for the year; Penelope skimmed down hers to find she had Charms first. She and Hermione's schedules were almost identical since they were taking almost all the same advanced classes, with the exception of the few additional classes Hermione was taking—Ancient Ruins and Arithmancy—and the class Hermione was not taking that Penelope was—History of Magic. Dean and Penelope shared a few classes as well, one of which being Charms.

As the students ate their breakfast, Penelope was a bit surprised Seamus wasn't trying to win over her affection but was rather thrilled he wasn't. She found what he'd said the night before repulsive. Although she was not fully aware of Draco's activities outside of school, she knew Seamus knew nothing more than herself. 

Instead of polite conversation, like all the other students were enduring, he gave quick, sly glances at her as he ate his breakfast. She didn't dare waste any energy worrying about his reasons why, instead, she ate her breakfast and conversed with Dean and Hermione. 

While eating, Penelope glanced up for a moment, as she laughed at something Dean had said, to find one of the Prefects passing out the schedules at the Hufflepuff table—the same Prefect Draco attacked the night before. As they met eyes, they both froze and quickly looked away. 

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked.

Penelope gulped down her juice. "Yes. Just fine. If it's alright, I think we should begin heading for class."

"It's a bit early to start walking to class. Besides, I have a few Head Girl things to check up on." Hermione replied, before taking another bite of her breakfast.

Dean gave her a nudge. "Well, I'm ready if you want to walk with me."

"That would be great." Penelope beamed.

Draco sat watching Penelope, from the Slytherin table, walk alongside Dean out of the Great Hall. There was still plenty of time till their first class, then why was she leaving so early? 

Overnight, he debated on whether or not he should confront her about his interaction with the Prefect. Was she waiting to tell Hermione at the right time to allow for his perfect destruction? Or has she already told and Hermione was going to inform Professor McGonagall at any second? The Ministry would not be thrilled to hear about his actions—the first night and he already was making his own life hell.

"The intensity is overwhelming." Theo mocked. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing important." 

"Just tell me. You are always so dramatic."

"Fuck off." Draco spat, pushing his plate away from him.

"If you want to hear dramatic, you should have heard Hermione this morning. She would not stop going on about the smoke." Blaise remarked before taking another sip of his juice.

Draco looked down at the food before him, untouched. His worries were always crossing his mind, causing sickness to form in his stomach at the thought of food. Lucky for him, he was able to choke down enough the night prior to satisfy him for the time being. 

In an instant, the pain in his forearm began and so did his itching.

Penelope decided to take the long walk to class since there was much time to waste. Dean was always an easy person for her to get along with, and in a way, he reminded her of Harry, and she awfully missed Harry. The corridors were empty, the only sounds to be heard were their voices bouncing along the walls and their footsteps on the stone. She went on to complain about her least favorite class, Charms. Then, Dean expressed his love for the class.

A few laughs left her lips. "You cannot be serious."

"That only might be because I am better at you in the class." Dean smirked. "What's your favorite class then?"

She looked up to Dean and smiled. "Potions, of course."

"Potions?"

"Yes, it's undeniably the best class." Dean gave a light nudge of his elbow to her arm as his hands rested in his pockets, creating a giggle from Penelope.

Although she was delighted to be strolling through the peacefully empty halls with Dean, thoughts began to cloud her mind about Seamus. It was a bit odd for him not to speak much at breakfast, he was known to be a loud person.

Penelope cleared her throat. "Seamus was quiet today."

"Oh—yeah—he was, wasn't he?" Dean whipped his attention forward.

"Do you know why?" A pause followed.

"He said—he found it a bit annoying—that you—called him out last night." It was clear Dean was uncomfortable with the topic.

"He was telling everyone detailed ways Draco _supposedly_ killed people. I'm surprised no one else said anything."

"I agree with you, Seamus was acting like an arse. I think it just was a shock coming from you since—well—he likes you."

"Still no excuse to act like he did."

Penelope and Hermione walked to potions later that day and stood in the back beside the other students. There were two Hufflepuffs, five Ravenclaws, a few other Gryffindors, and two Slytherins, one being Pansy Parkinson. A minute before class started, Draco and Blaise scurried in and stood along the edge of students. A quick glance and a millisecond of eye contact were all that were exchanged between Penelope and Draco.

"I think it is time we begin." Professor Slughorn announced, approaching the students from the front of the classroom. "Can anyone tell me the antidote for the confundus charm?"

Hermione's arm shot up in the air. "Wit-sharpening potion, sir."

"Yes, good, Miss Granger." Slughorn said. Hermione nodded and smiled lightly to herself. "I'm glad to see you have returned—unlike your friends—Harry and Ron. But they are on to bigger and better things, I hear. Anyway, can anyone tell me the main ingredient for this potion?" 

Hermione's arm shot up again while Penelope kept her arms around her book which rested against her chest. The answer replayed in her head as she tapped her book, rolling her eyes at the lack of hands in the air.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Slughorn asked. 

Draco stood up straighter as he heard his name called, dropping his book to his side which previously rested across his chest. "Beetroot." He said it as though it was an effortless thought.

"Excellent, Mr. Malfoy." Slughorn smiled. "I want you all to make the Wit-sharpening potion. It will be located on page fifty-two of your books. Go on." With a wave of the professor's hand, the students headed for a work station.

Penelope set up her station beside Hermione's and grabbed the ingredients her book instructed she need. When she came back to her station, she found Draco set up beside her, standing all pompous like. It stunned her for a second but she placed her things down before it was noticeable. Across from Draco stood Blaise.

She looked over to the man working diligently beside her, his blonde hair falling out of which it was styled. It was quite impressive how he worked, almost as though he knew it by memory. He met her gaze after moments of observing, causing her eyes to shift back to her station. 

"I'm surprised you chose a station next to me to work." Her voice was low, only loud enough for him to hear.

Hermione huffed, pushed back the few pieces of hair that fell beside her face, and checked her ingredient list again before walking away. "Do you and Granger find it funny for me to suffer?" His voice was like daggers.

"What are talking about?" Penelope asked, pausing her work.

"When exactly is McGonagall going to punish me? Or do you want to keep it a surprise?"

"I didn't tell Hermione." Penelope resumed her work. "I told you I wasn't."

Draco didn't seem to accept what was said. "Why wouldn't you?"

A weary sigh left her lips. "I have nothing to gain from telling and you have much to lose if I did. Nothing happened. And to be perfectly honest, it was none of my business." Penelope explained carelessly, almost as though she had explained it to herself too many times.

It wasn't making sense. If anyone else were to come across what he was doing to that _pitiful_ Prefect, they wouldn't have hesitated to inform McGonagall themselves. Yet, she wasn't going to.

Hermione returned to her station and began her work promptly after a quick glance around the room.

"You shouldn't expect a thank you note anytime soon." Draco sneered.

"I won't. By the way, you added too much pigtail."

Draco looked down to his book and a stream of swears escaped under his breath, next, a laugh from Penelope's lips. 

"You find my mistake amusing?"

Penelope's hand shot up before Hermione had the chance. "Yes, Ms. Burton?"

"Spider eyes, sir." Penelope answered, proudly.

"Excellent, Miss Burton." Slughorn replied. "I am also very pleased to see your face in my class again."

Draco was too busy harrowing over Penelope that he didn't even notice Professor Slughorn was asking questions. Was she trying to prove her intellect? In previous years, his intelligence would never have been questioned but due to recent events, it seemed many were unconvinced.

The next arm to raise was Draco's. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

"A rose leaf." He said, arrogantly.

"Correct, Mr. Malfoy."

Penelope wouldn't dare admit to herself that she was growing impressed with Draco. With all the rumors going around, people were making him seem like an incompetent fool; it was clear he wasn't. 

She was also well aware of his intentions for answering questions—trying to show off his knowledge. She had only rose her hand first to get out of the conversation, but he instead took it as a competition. Quite amusing.

Men in her year weren't the type to show their intelligence, instead were careless and saw Hogwarts as an excuse to socialize. It wasn't that she didn't care to socialize, because she did, but Hogwarts was still a school and determined her future. Education was her top priority.

After dinner, Penelope and Seamus stayed behind and waited in the Entrance Hall for all the students to walk back to their common rooms after Penelope asked to speak to him. One student who walked past was a tall, pale man who was rather mysterious in Penelope's eyes. The students around him, besides his few friends, stood at a cautious distance, watching every move he made as if he were going to pull out his wand and kill someone at any moment. But he didn't seem to care.

As soon as Draco looked over to Penelope and Seamus, Seamus began muttering things under his breath and giving him a look of disgust. Draco didn't seem to care either. Strange.

"What did you want to talk about?" Seamus asked, annoyed. His arms were crossed in front of his chest.

"I heard you're upset with me." Although his opinion of her was something she cared nothing for, the discomfort at their table was more on her mind. But Penelope looked to the top of the staircase and noticed Draco turn down the opposite corridor than the way to any of the common rooms.

"I'm not upset—"

"Look Seamus, I'm sorry I shouted." Penelope interrupted. "I didn't mean to." 

"It's not because you shouted—"

"I have to go—but hopefully, we can move past this." Penelope said, carelessly. She then hurried up the stairs and in the same direction Draco wandered off to.

What would she say if she saw Draco walking down a random corridor? Maybe she could just say she was making sure he wasn't getting into any trouble. Penelope turned a corner. No, he would think she was stalking him and that was not what she was doing—was she? No, she was just making sure another Prefect wouldn't be attacked. That would make the most sense. Penelope turned another corner. Yes, that was what she was doing, protecting any Prefects that were wandering. Penelope turned another corner and found Draco.

He was resting his elbows along a stone railing, looking out to one of the unused courtyards. No students would be walking along where they stood since the dormitories were in a completely different section of the castle. In his hand was a cigarette, drooping smoke into the air. The moonlight struck one side of his face, emphasizing his pale skin, while the other sat in darkness. The only sounds to be heard were a cricket below and a flick of the white stick in his hand. It, then, met his lips and fell back down in his hand which laid against the railing. A cloud escaped as he parted his lips, reflecting the moonlight as it disappeared into the air.

It was mesmerizing to watch; Penelope hadn't even realized she was resting her body against the wall. Then it hit her—why was she there? Why was she watching? How long has she been standing there? Draco's nasty habits were completely none of her business. 

She pushed herself off the wall as she took her eyes off the man and began walking away. 

"Burton!" Draco shouted. 

_Shit_. 

He shoved his cigarette into the stone before pushing himself off. "I know you heard me." Anger slid off his tongue.

Penelope walked into sight of Draco, moonlight touching a part of her body. "Yes?" She planned to use her words carefully.

"Following me?" He jeered, stepping closer to her.

"Of course not." She lied. Her mind went completely blank. "Hermione sent me to check this part of the castle."

"Why aren't Granger's slaves doing it?" He was unconvinced by her lie.

"It was a favor."

"Well, our encounters better not become a habit." He spat down at her.

Penelope stared back at the man towering over her, disgust filling his face. Other students would've been trembling in her position, but she wasn't. There was something about him that made her less fearful. What was it? 

A breeze swept the scent of his clothing onto her face, smelling almost like a bitter bonfire. As a child, her father used to smoke cigarettes liberally. That was until her mother couldn't take the smell anymore. And, for a single moment, it was an enjoyable smell, reminding her of her father from when she was a kid. The moment was short, allowing her to take a step back when she realized who owned the scent.

"I'll make sure they won't."

As she walked to the Head common room, she could not remember why she followed him. Her mind was completely blank, the only thought available was an image of him resting his arms against the stone railing. _Think, think, think_. There had to of been a reason other than stalking the mysterious man. He wasn't even _that_ mysterious—just a stubborn, overly confident man. Nothing special about him.

Penelope didn't bother to knock as she walked into the Head common room. The only person in the room was Theo, resting his head on the back of the couch as he sunk in deep, releasing smoke into the already foggy air. He met her eyes and smiled a devilish grin. 

"Penelope." He stood up to shake her hand, which she did cautiously. "I'm going to call you Penny." 

She always hated that nickname, something about it drove her mad. "Please don't." Penelope took her hand from his grip. "Is Hermione here?"

He smirked. "Then what should I call you?"

She was confused why he felt the need to have such a formal greeting now when she walked into the same room the night prior. And it wasn't their first time meeting either, they've had classes together since their first year. "Call me Penelope. Is Hermione here?"

"Blaise!" Theo called up. "You're entertainment is here."

"Entertainment?" Penelope muttered.

Blaise bursted out of his room. "Entertainment?"

"Yes, Penny has informed me of her utter desire for you. She was begging and pleading for me to get you."

"I did not!" Penelope pushed past but her wrist was grabbed. 

Theo pulled out a white stick from his pocket with his unused hand. "Here, have this. Seems you need it."

"I don't smoke." Penelope didn't understand why any of them did. None of them did before the war and she wasn't going to be one to start now.

"Stuck up—just my type." Theo laughed.

"Theo." Blaise called out from the top of the stairs.

He dropped her wrist from his hand. "I was just having fun."

Penelope groaned and began walking up to Hermione's room. "She's not here." Blaise informed. "She'll be back any minute now if you want to wait."

Penelope sighed. "Alright." She walked back down and plopped on the couch, dissolving deep into the cushions. Theo kept grinning as he watched, frequently placing the stick between his lips and blowing out a cloud of smoke in her direction. Any girl would have begged to be in the position she was in, yet, the way he held himself was nauseating. She kept her eyes anywhere besides Theo since it seemed the more she was aware of him, the more satisfied he became. 

But something kept replaying in her mind, rather someone. She could not figure out why Draco was so intriguing. Yes, he was good looking but she considered Theo just as, and he wasn't intriguing to her, the complete opposite, in fact. Maybe she felt bad for Draco. With all the rumors flooding the halls, there was no way he didn't feel isolated. No, that wasn't the reason—.

The door opened and Penelope stood up to greet Hermione—but it wasn't Hermione at the door—it was Draco who stepped in. She quickly sat back down and didn't dare meet the eyes she felt carving her sides. 

Draco thought he had told her he no longer wanted to see her, yet she was sitting before him, legs and arms crossed with a look of disappointment. An open spot beside Theo is where he sat, taking a fresh stick from his pocket and placing it between his lips. She had to of been there for Hermione, she wouldn't have known he would be stopping by. But the mere idea of her being there for him sparked something inside of him—maybe disgust. 

The door opened again but this time, Hermione walked in. Draco watched as Penelope propped herself up and smiled at Hermione. Is that how Penelope greeted people? A meaningless smile? A slight smirk appeared on his face at the thought of Penelope doing so to greet him. 

"Sorry I had to finish a few Head Girl things." Hermione was out of breath. "But I've done about half of the Potions summary already." Penelope followed Hermione up to her room and vanished a moment later.

Draco was surprised Hermione had not finished the summary already. He finished his during his break after the class. It was a simple summary of a potion they've already learned about in their sixth year. 

His lip quivered into a self-approving grin. He then sparked his cig and inhaled as deep as he could, barely listening to Theo babble on about a girl in one of his classes. What Theo considered issues were laughable compared to his own. 

But then, the sensation began on Draco's arm. Draco placed the stick between his lips and sucked in as much as he could to try and relieve his pain, only releasing it when the burning in his lungs felt worse. The pain overcame his whole body, paralyzing him. Theo became inaudible—all of his focus was on the carving feeling in his arm. After minutes of a repeated cycle of a burning feeling in his arm and a burning in his lungs, the pain vanished. 

As Theo kept complaining, unaware of what Draco had just experienced, Draco thought about all the ways he could rip out Theo's throat. 

"I don't know, mate. She's fucking insane." Theo said, laying back into the cushion.

"Completely." Draco replied, unsure of who they were even talking about.


	3. Chapter 3

Penelope went about her week going to classes and working on the large amounts of work she was receiving. Most nights, she was either in Hermione's room working on homework or in the library doing the same. Somehow, it seemed Hermione was unfazed by the workload on top of all her Head Girl duties, and she was taking one more class than Penelope. Penelope was able to keep up with her homework, but even with the classes she was taking, it was a bit much. 

Defense Against the Dark Arts was after lunch on Friday, the only class she had that day. There were more familiar faces in that class—Neville, Seamus, Ginny, Hermione, and Dean. There were also a few other Gryffindors, a few Ravenclaws—including Luna, two Hufflepuffs, and nine Slytherins—including Draco, Theo, Blaise, and Pansy. 

The new professor, Amelia Dixon, greeted the class and quickly got into the lesson, having the students gather around her as she demonstrated. The woman was pale, tall, and thin with freshly curled, chocolate brown hair, looking immensely put together. She seemed somehow far more confident than all the other professors Penelope had had for this class.

She began by demonstrating a nonverbal spell that repaired a broken vase that sat in the center of the room. It wasn't the first time the students witnessed a nonverbal spell nor used it but there were a select few in the class who were still unable to perfect such spells. 

"I want you all to partner up and practice. I want to see no cheating of any sort, yes, that includes whispering. I need you all to take this seriously because next week each of you will demonstrate a nonverbal spell in front of the class." Professor Dixon's confidence followed her around the room.

The class began to partner up: Penelope with Dean; Hermione with Ginny; and Neville with Seamus. Penelope wasn't accommodated to using such spells but she wasn't any less confident doing them. 

Penelope started off by throwing simple ones at Dean which could have easily been countered. It was then Dean's turn. Each spell cast Penelope's way began with the slight movement of Dean's lips. Each time the professor looked over, Penelope would begin casting spells to cover for him. 

A few students were caught—Seamus, a Ravenclaw, and a Hufflepuff—which was followed by laughter from the Slytherins who all seemed to have perfected nonverbal magic. 

The professor ended class by discussing her background in magic. Amelia Dixon worked as an Auror for five years before becoming the Head of the Auror Office. She was also one of McGonagall's favorite students and after the war, she was offered the position at the school. 

"This is a class that many of you, if not all of you, need to take seriously." The professor began, sitting on a desk at the front. "Voldemort was defeated, yes, but there is still much darkness in this world, much that the Ministry does not want to inform the public about. I'm not trying to scare any of you but knowing how to use power and how not take advantage of it is something that should be important to each and every one of you." 

Many students pointed their attention to the Death Eater in the room, careless of how he felt. Draco, once again, didn't seem to care.

"Make sure you prepare for the demonstration next week. And if there are no questions, then you may leave."

Penelope followed her friends out of class and pulled Dean to the side.

Draco leaned his elbows on the stone railing, watching the quiet, small grass courtyard below him—the same one he watched nearly every night. Beside him stood Theo, leaning against the stone post, lighting a white stick recently pulled from his pocket. It was one of the only areas of the castle that wasn't monitored because this courtyard was rarely used. It now was almost only shadows since the sun was beginning to set. In Draco's hand was a letter from his mother he received at breakfast, unopened.

The last thing he wanted to be reminded of was his life outside of Hogwarts. During the summer, while the other students were off with their families on holiday, he was being interrogated by Ministry Officials, alongside his parents, telling them every single piece of information he knew about the remaining Death Eaters. If the officials weren't satisfied with any of the information given, they would begin to threaten the outcome of his trial, raising the potential years for him to rot. Then after leaving the Ministry, already feeling like a piece of shit, he got bombarded by reporters calling him foul names and being asked how he felt about spending the rest of his life in Azkaban. 

Being at Hogwarts was never to that extreme. People would discuss him in private but never to his face, and if they did, he would make them regret it. People were still scared of him—he still had an ounce of power. But outside of Hogwarts, people wouldn't second guess spitting on him as though he was some type of killer—he wasn't. Yes, his father did use the killing curse quite a few times while he was forced to watch but he had no knowledge on if his mother ever did. He liked not knowing—he was scared of knowing. 

The sound of laughter came from below—a woman. With the little sun left, he could see it was a woman with brunette hair—borderline blonde. Strands of her hair resembled gold and reflected the limited sunlight. He hadn't noticed till now that her hair was curled that day, somehow making her hair look glossy. Her laugh was genuine—one he couldn't remember having—and a smile he could only assume would make others follow suit—he would never, _of course_.

He watched as Penelope pulled Dean out into the center of the courtyard, laughing again. What really could be so funny? He couldn't make out what they were saying—bloody fuck what were they saying that would make her laugh so much? 

A few seconds after, they took a few steps away from each other and faced one another.

"Alright, now focus." Penelope prepared her wand. "There is no pressure here. Just focus on the spell."

Dean took in a deep breath. "Alright." 

A few quick moments passed before a spell shot at her before she quickly deflected it. 

"That was perfect, Dean!" She shouted. "Now try a few more."

"Oh—that's pathetic." Theo whispered to Draco. "He needed to practice nonverbal magic." Theo laughed. 

Draco let out a huff and a smirk. "Pathetic." He then stood up and opened his mother's letter.

_Draco,_

_It is unbelievable that you have been gone only a week. I miss you dearly and your father does as well. Hogwarts may be the last place you want to be right now, but you would be thrilled to not be home once you heard everything happening with the Ministry. It's not looking good, Draco. The countless amounts of people we have spoken to agree. You are an adult now and I need you to understand, this is serious. Your father and I can't even leave our house anymore. I am not even sure if you will receive this with all the monitoring but I love you, Draco. Be safe._

_with love,_

_Narcissa Malfoy_

Draco lifted the letter, sparked a flame, and watched the letter burn.

Theo watched from beside him. "That bad?" A silence then fell down between the two. Theo sparked a fresh stick, passed it to Draco, and he placed it between his parted lips as he watched the almost inaudible individuals below. Dean was successfully using nonverbal magic now. _Perfect_.

Dean succeeded again after throwing another spell. After doing so, he ran over to Penelope, lifted her up with his arms around her waist, and spun her around as she laughed.

Laughing? Laughing because he was finally able to do a nonverbal spell? How did she not find that pathetic? Draco has been able to do that for years. If she found that amusing, she must have been just as _dense_ as every other student at Hogwarts. 

A spark of light hit the wall beside them, crumbling the stone. "Pathetic brainless halfwit." Draco spat as he stormed out, admiring his work. As Theo followed him out, Theo waved his wand and the wall began to repair itself.

Draco and Theo entered the Head common room after minutes of aimlessly walking the halls. They found a woman sitting comfortably on the couch beside Blaise while Blaise carefully skimmed down a piece of parchment resting in his hands. Her bangs sat just above her eyelids while the remaining sleek, black hair laid below her shoulders, contrasting her light skin tone. She sat back, confidently, watching Blaise with her legs crossed, twirling her hair with her index, barely noticing who walked through the door.

"Don't tell me—" Draco began, disgust spilling from his mouth.

Pansy adjusted her shoulder slightly, allowing a better view. "No, Draco—but, unlike you, I'm a Prefect. This means I need to discuss my finished task with the Head Boy. Wait—you knew that. You _used_ to be a Prefect too." 

Draco groaned in return as he took a seat on the couch across. Theo followed.

"Theo, I'm assuming you are not here for me." Pansy's voice was filled with arrogance. 

Draco raised an eyebrow at Theo as he lit a cigarette. 

"It was one time." Theo explained. "It was more of a—meaningless encounter. Nothing more."

Pansy's tongue clicked. "Draco smokes cigarettes now. How am I not surprised? Really, Draco? What happened to you?" 

"Mind pissing off?" Draco laid back on the couch, blowing a cloud into the air.

"Don't even enjoy my presence anymore? That's just sad." A laugh joined the smoke in the air.

Blaise cleared his throat. "Head Boy needs to focus." He then continued looking over the parchment in his hands. Theo let out a laugh when he heard what Blaise referred to himself as and Draco nearly raised the side of his lip.

There was then a knock at the door, and before anyone stood up, Pansy waved her wand, making the door open and slam against the wall. Penelope stood before the entrance and looked at the group in shock.

"Penny!" Theo shouted. "Come on in."

Penelope stepped in and waved her wand, closing the door behind her. She stood as though someone was about to hex her, holding her book close to her chest with her legs stiff. Her smile was gone and so was her laugh, a pleasant sight for Draco. But even with her cautious stance, she still had a sense of happiness about her, an unpleasant thought for Draco as he knew the reason for her joy.

Draco inspected his cigarette before speaking. "Did Dean finally learn how to cast a spell?"

"Excuse me?" Penelope replied, nettled by his words.

"Pitiful, isn't it?" He began speaking to his friends as if she wasn't standing a few steps away. "A _returning_ seventh-year student is unable to do a voiceless spell. I'm sure even a brainless first year could." The group laughed, Pansy's laugh louder.

Penelope was enraged but didn't allow Draco to see a reaction. "Hermione!" Penelope yelled up.

Draco stood and took a few steps towards Penelope who stood still. "I bet you feel satisfied with yourself—for being able to teach that pathetic prick to do something simple."

Penelope's face was close enough to feel his cigarette breath touching her cheeks. The disgust on his face began to turn to satisfaction as she stood wordless. 

"At least he's not hated by the entire school." Penelope spat, spitting whatever came to her mind. 

Regret filled her entire body as she saw his satisfaction drain as though someone had informed him of a death in his family. Draco didn't get upset by words—did he? She was sure he had heard everyone talk about him, saying foul things, much of which wasn't true. Yet, for some reason, it seemed he cared at that moment.

As her words rang inside his head, like a bell banging against metal, he took hold of her book and slammed his cigarette into the cover, leaving behind a darkened hole in the center. She was disturbed, and he was exhilarated— _finally something_. 

Her book was now in her possession and she was yelling once more for Hermione. His lip couldn't help but curl into a smirk as he watched how bothered she was. It was just a meaningless— _fuck_ —he caught a glimpse of the title: _Advance Potion-Making_. Pity? No, not possible.

His expression remained as Hermione entered the room and as she and Penelope vanished. Any sliver of pity vanished the same as they did. If anything, he should have torn out her voicebox, never allowing her to speak to him again. 

"And I thought you changed." Pansy chortled, adjusting herself as she crossed her left leg over her right.

Like a gust of wind, Draco let out an exasperated sigh and turned on his heels to face the group. Blaise remained in his same position, reading the words carved, Pansy seemed far too comfortable gazing at Draco, and Theo laughed like a hyena, almost looking blue in the face. "Amused?" Draco snatched Theo's cigarette and put it out.

Theo's hands waved in the air. "I was until you had to get all—crook. Now you wasted two."

"Time for dinner, isn't it?" Blaise asked, dangling the parchment with one hand as his elbow lay against his knee.

"No comment from Mr. Head Boy? I'm shocked." Theo added, sarcastically.

"I didn't see Draco put out a cigarette on a student's book if that's what you are referring to. I'm Head Boy now, I can't cover for you idiots." Blaise rose to his feet. "Dinner?"

Draco snarled and followed Blaise out the door, dragging his feet as if it were a chore.

The group reached the Great Hall, receiving the usual distasteful stares from their peers. After only a moment, Draco found the set of eyes he was in search for, a pair glued to the food set before them. She knocked a piece of her dinner around with her fork before agreeing to give it to that Longbottom git. Those around her were cheerful, nothing but a pack of sheep surrounding her, but her face was cold and emotionless—he must have caused it. A fluttering began inside his rib cage—happiness, he assumed. But once again, Penelope hadn't told anyone. At least from what he could tell. The muscles in Granger's face contracted, showing nothing but elation as she spoke to a girl beside her—Weasley's sister. 

Reasons. All he was giving her were reasons, yet she was acting as though she had not witnessed any transgressions. Quite reckless, really. From his recalled memories, she was just as priggish as Granger. 

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked Penelope. "You haven't even touched your food."

"Oh—I'm alright. I might just be too nervous about the demonstration next week in Defense Against the Dark Arts." Penelope lied. 

Dean gave her a light nudge. "You have no reason to be. I can do nonverbal spells only because of you."

Penelope created a laugh and forced her lip into a smile to satisfy her friends from asking any more questions. While putting on a show, her finger laid on the new addition of a dark valley in her book cover sitting under her right thigh. He snickered—he actually found it chucklesome, ruining a book necessary for school. She could almost laugh at herself for defending an arrogant prick who cared for no one besides himself. 

"Penelope seems to have an admirer." Seamus announced, directing the attention to Draco.

Penelope's eyes met his, the intensity overtaking her. It was like watching a candle burn in the center of a room, darkness surrounding him while a lightness burned within, a moment lasting only a second but engulfed her as though a year had passed. But time carried on; Draco returned to his conversation and Penelope rejoined hers. 

"Never picked you out to be Draco's type." Dean teased, resting his head in his hand and giving Penelope his full attention.

Penelope kept her eyes focused on the food laying on her plate. "He's probably just upset by our conversation." 

"Conversation? What did he say?" Seamus questioned, placing his utensils on his plate.

"Nothing really. Just was upset by something I said."

"What did you say?" Seamus asked, pushing his tone to anger. It wasn't just him asking, it seemed the ones surrounding her group were repeating the same question in their head.

She took in a breath. "Let's drop it." 

"Just tell me and I'll take care of it." Seamus insisted.

All Seamus was giving her was a reason to never bring Draco up again. To never hear someone beg for information on a topic that they knew nothing about, to never feel trapped in a conversation, to never have someone believe she told only to receive pity in return. Just the thought of someone believing she wanted pity made her feel the need to shower like mud covered every inch of her. 

"I said drop it." Penelope demanded. "Nothing happened. Nothing is going to happen."

The group froze, like water during winter, conversing with the shore one moment and standing still the next, and after an everlasting second, they talked about the meaningless topics they once were, like spring arrived—she could breathe again. 

Draco was a fable in her mind— _not real_ —and when her friends acknowledged their encounter, he suddenly became _real_. Like a secret was exposed. But there was no secret. He was just a man attending the same school. Nothing special about him. Even if there was, it was gone now.

Dinner ended and the students went back to their common rooms. Penelope hurried to her room before her roommates and slammed her book down on her desk, examining the damage. 

Just above an image of a cauldron, and below the bolded letters, laid the remnants of the cigarette. The melted indentation and the dark powder smothered across the book was the anchor for the eyes who looked. A cloth nearby hit the surface and scrubbed till it was gone. But it wasn't gone, it was becoming worse. It was becoming permanent—he was permanent. 

Ginny walked in with Penelope's other roommates behind, one was blonde while the other was brunette. Penelope didn't seem to care for the names before since she planned to be in the Head common room often, but things have changed, more like, people haven't.

Penelope shoved her book into a desk drawer. "Did you see we get to go to Hogsmeade in two weeks?"

"Wait—really? When?" Penelope plopped down on her bed.

"Friday after next. Should be fun." Ginny shrugged and walked to her bed. 

"Yes, it should be."


	4. Chapter 4

Penelope and Hermione walked to Potions after working on the piles of homework they had in the library. Shortly after arriving, Draco and Blaise plodded in and stood in an empty area to the side. Penelope kept her head down and only raised it when Slughorn approached the class. 

"Always good to see everyone's faces." He laughed. "Let's just get right into the lesson. Can anyone tell me the most powerful truth serum?" 

Hermione's hand shot up. "Miss Granger?"

Hermione took a step forward from the crowd. "Veritaserum, sir." 

"Very good, Miss Granger." Hermione nodded and smiled as she took a step back. "Now, can anyone tell me the proper time to use such a potion? Miss Parkinson?" 

Pansy jolted herself awake and directed her attention to the professor. "Professor?" 

Hermione's hand shot up again but Slughorn looked past to another student. "Miss Burton?"

" _Oh_ —the potion shouldn't be used since the Ministry has tight restrictions."

"Correct. And even if one were to try and use such a potion, some are able to resist the effects. This is why the Ministry doesn't use it themselves. Well, anyway, Veritaserum is what you all will make today. Should be on—" The professor began flipping through his book.

"—page sixty-four, sir." Hermione interjected.

"Yes, page sixty-four. Go on." The professor waved his class off as he stepped away to the front. 

Penelope and Hermione hurried over to their usual spots and began prepping for the assignment. After making sure her desk was completely clear, she noticed Draco walk up to the spot across from her with Blaise at the station beside him. Penelope waved her thoughts away and walked over to grab the things she needed: griffin claw, cinnamon, dandelion root . . .

Once she arrived back at her station, she flipped her book over to reveal the dark powder missing from the cover but the indentation still present. There were limited people in the room who were aware of the incident: Draco, Blaise, Pansy, and Penelope. Blaise and Pansy had nothing to gain from repairing Draco's damage and Draco seemed to enjoy the show he put on days prior. 

She finally looked up and found the blonde working vigorously with his head bowed and his finger trailing down his book like a leaf along a tree. Penelope cleared her throat in the hopes of gaining his attention but failed. Instead, he added his measured amount of dandelion root into his cauldron, causing a gurgle to sound. She attempted to gain his attention once more before tapping her wand on the outside of his cauldron. 

"What?" He spat quietly, raising his head to allow their eyes to meet.

"Did you touch my book?" 

"I have my own book. And even if I didn't, I wouldn't use that pitiful thing." He spat, nodding his head in the direction of her book. "Only a fucking fool could destroy their book as you did." He snickered, returning back to his work. 

"You were the one to destroy it, you git!" She whispered.

"No—but please inform the class. They'll think you're a nutter."

Hermione looked up from her station. "Is there a problem?"

Draco fixed his attention back on Penelope and repeated the question. "Is there a problem?" It became a test to see whether or not Penelope would put up with him—a simple pass or fail. Either way, whether pass or fail, she would remain a brainless idiot in his mind, but the answer to the question was riveting to hear. 

She stood like a deer in headlights, nowhere to run. Telling Hermione was simple. But it was as though her mouth was sewn shut like she was unable to speak. After acknowledging her potential lie, it then became a task to convince herself, repeating to herself _it was not her concern_ , even though a small sliver of her knew it wasn't true. Yet she was defending him like he was a helpless bunny who was waiting to be pounced on by a predator. And maybe there was a predator and it may have been the Ministry but Draco was giving her no reason to protect him. He didn't need protection; he told her himself.

But the track played once more and she lied. "Nothing—I was just making sure he didn't take my cinnamon." Hermione nodded cautiously at Penelope and resumed her work.

Draco and Penelope directed their attention to each other before returning to their assignment. 

Penelope lied. Penelope lied for _him_. His lip curled slightly as he repeated it to himself—she lied to Hermione for _him_. Draco added his valerian next, causing the liquid to become a lighter color and thinner consistency. If she didn't make such a fuss about a book, she wouldn't have been asked by Hermione. And all it took was a quick tap of his wand to eliminate the powder across the cover but the bloody fucking depression stayed behind. 

Draco leaned his hip against the table as he flipped through random pages of the book, waiting for the class to finish, only glancing across to see _her_ progress. It was simple, really. The professor hinted at it at the end of the last class and he was surprised others hadn't caught on to prepare.

"Are you done, Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Slughorn asked, astonished as Draco nodded. The professor grabbed a red bean from the table and dropped it inside the cauldron, watching as the liquid flashed a bright orange for a passing second before becoming dark once more. "Well done, Mr. Malfoy!" Draco stood stunned as though someone hexed him, but no one around was paying any attention except Hermione, who huffed and hurried to finish her assignment, and Penelope, who rolled her eyes as his pair met hers. A pat on the arm from the professor rattled his senses back, allowing him to give a serious nod in agreement. "Stay after class, I want to speak to you."

Friday came sooner than many had hoped; it was the day of the demonstrations in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Students were practicing every day, whether it be conjuring up a glass at dinner or locking and unlocking their bedroom doors. Dean and Penelope also met up once more in a different courtyard, out of sight from Draco. 

The students gathered along the edge of the classroom while they waited for the Professor to enter the room. The sound of heels clicking along the wood echoed in before Professor Dixon was visible. Her confidence remained the same but her hair was now thin and straight, clapping against her back as she walked. A tap of the tip of her shoe against the floorboards made a section rise, creating a makeshift stage.

"Now who would like to go first?" The professor grinned. 

Hermione rose her hand and boarded the stage when the professor nodded. The professor waved her wand, making a small wooden table appear. "I want a lamp to go on my new table." Dixon said, giggling at herself. Hermione took in a breath before waving her wand at the table. A lamp appeared and landed on the table, wobbling till it stabilized.

"Excellent work, Miss—?"

"—Granger—Hermione Granger, Professor."

"Excellent work, Miss Granger." Hermione nodded in response with a genuine grin and rejoined her peers. "Anyone next?"

Next to step up was Neville who had to unlock a door the Professor made appear. A few more students climbed on the stage before Draco was called up to shoot out a line of fire from his wand. This received applause from his group and a few exaggerated claps from Pansy. 

The last to go was Penelope. As she climbed on stage, Professor Dixon did the same on the opposite side. "Knock me back." Penelope nodded and adjusted the way she stood. After a flurry of wind escaped her nose, she swatted her wand at the professor. The professor dodged the blue light thrown at her before taking a step back to recover. Dixon laughed a little as she stepped down and an impressive look fell upon her face.

"Miss Burton, correct?"

"Yes, Professor." Penelope responded with a node.

"Great work, Miss Burton." Dixon said with a grin, then faced the class. "I'm glad to see you all have practiced and since you all did as told, I am going to end class earlier. I will be requiring a full parchment summary on why nonverbal magic is a necessary skill to have." A few of the Slytherins in the corner let out an exaggerated huff and murmured conversation between themselves. "See you all next week."

"You cannot be serious." Neville muttered while walking alongside Seamus. "Professor Sprout already gave us twenty pages to read on top of an essay on the Beatitudinem Rose." Seamus patted the back of Neville's arm and laughed since Seamus wasn't taking Herbology.

"Miss Burton." Professor Dixon called out and someone hit Penelope's back as she froze.

" _Penny_ , did you miss me?" Theo teased.

Penelope rolled her eyes, forcing them to fall onto one of the men beside him who was staring her down as if she had killed his pet. With a nudge of her arm, the men walked past and out the door to a patiently waiting Pansy. Penelope continued her journey to the professor's desk and stood with her arms behind her back as she waited for her to look up from the chaotic spread of papers. 

"Miss Burton." Professor Dixon repeated, still gazing her eyes over the mess and moving papers from the center like she was parting the sea.

"Yes, Professor." Penelope kept her worry from reaching her face.

"Here it is." The professor yanked out a piece of paper. At a quick glance, Penelope was able to see her name and an image of her flinching at a flash of light. "Desired Profession: Head of the Auror Office." The professor's eyes met hers. "Ambitious." The tall, thin woman leaned back in her chair, examining the student opposite of her.

"Yes, it is."

"The jinx you demonstrated was rather impressive." 

"Thank you, professor." Penelope's expression remained neutral.

"Becoming an Auror is a difficult task and the higher job title is clearly even more strenuous." Penelope nodded lightly in preparation for a lecture. "I don't want to hold you prisoner but I did want to meet the student with high aspirations. . . It will be a pleasure to have such an _ambitious_ student in the class." The professor said, sounding as though her statement had a different meaning.

Penelope pasted a smile to her face. "It was a pleasure speaking to you too." A quick flip on her heels allowed her to drop the fake smile and dart out of the room. 

As she roamed the corridor in search of her common room, Dixon's words traveled her mind. Then they didn't. If there were possibly five sentences exchanged to each other, then what was the point of the conversation? To drop doubt? No, a professor wouldn't allow a drop of doubt to fall into a student's mind—right?

Penelope had better things to worry about anyway; she needed to get ready for Slughorn's dinner party. She, Hermione, and Ginny's invitations came simultaneously Wednesday morning while eating their breakfast. They all were apart of the Slug Club during their sixth year and anticipated an invite.

A brisk walk down and a few knocks later, she and Ginny stepped in to find Hermione swirling a glass of an orange-colored liquid as she stood talking to Professor Slughorn beside Blaise. A few steps away stood another group of students and one Penelope could recognize was Neville—he must have made the new cut. 

"Miss Weasley and Miss Burton! Glad my invitations didn't get lost—you know how those pesky owls can be nowadays." Slughorn smiled, then glanced at a clock resting across the room. "He should be here soon." He muttered to himself. "But let's just begin anyway!" He announced after, waving his hands towards the round table resting at the center of the room. 

After everyone was seated, Slughorn began introducing the students to each other. There was a brief mention of Hermione, Ginny, and Penelope being the brightest witches of their year. Neville was introduced as a future worker at the Department of Mysteries and Slughorn expressed his advancement in Herbology. Blaise was introduced as one of the brightest wizards of his year. Slughorn then began rambling on about Harry Potter for his intelligence and bravery. Shortly after, a Ravenclaw sitting at the table was introduced. The man's father had written the best selling book about the Wizarding War and received much praise from the professor for its contents. Last to be introduced was a Hufflepuff girl whose mother works directly under the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. After each introduction, the professor glanced at the clock before guiding the conversation. 

"I guess we can start." Slughorn said, hesitantly. Food then was delivered to each student and the smell was divine, causing many compliments to be shared for the delightful meal. The students conversed with one another while Slughorn guided like a tour guide. 

"Mr. Longbottom, what was it like interning at the Department of Mysteries? One can only assume it was _mysterious_ with a name like such." Slughorn laughed.

"It was interesting—" Neville started before being interrupted by the door opening.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Slughorn called out. Penelope stiffened at the name. "You are a bit late but you still have a chance to catch up. Please take a seat." Slughorn said. The man in an all-black suit took a seat beside Penelope—the only seat available. "This is Draco Malfoy, one of my most advanced students of the year so far." 

Draco expected to receive a dissatisfied look from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff in the room. Receiving light nods from Hermione, Neville, and Ginny was another expected treat. But he didn't expect the honey-streaked brunette beside him to ignore his presence as if he were a ghost—completely invisible. 

Neville babbled on about interning at the Department of—Draco didn't care. Penelope still hadn't acknowledged his attendance to such a party. It must have been eating at her like a weed in soil, absorbing all the nutrients, leaving nothing behind but useless dirt. Only the highly praised were invited and Draco was surprised himself when Slughorn approached him. The filthy mark on his arm didn't stop Slughorn this year—perhaps a change of heart.

"Professor Dixon didn't like the performance?" Draco scoffed quietly, only allowing for Penelope to hear.

"She did." Penelope said with a slight raise of her lip, keeping her focus on Slughorn.

"Then she's not all that she's talked up to be." Draco spat, Penelope now facing Draco. "Only a gink would think your demonstration deserved anything higher than a fail." 

"Only someone who didn't deserve an invite would show up late to a dinner party."

"You heard the gaffer, I'm one of his advanced students." Draco boasted. 

"What required your time more? Homework? An individual of the opposite sex? Or did you need a quick stress reliever? I can smell it on your breath." Penelope turned her attention back to Slughorn.

Did his breath really—? Why did he care? And before he was able to spit another sentence at her, Slughorn asked him about his future. 

_Future?_ Did the geezer not read the _Prophet_? He had no future. Perhaps Slughorn meant Azkaban. The Ministry was going to find any way to throw a rotten Death Eater in Azkaban no matter their level of involvement. It was an easy way to dispose of them.

"I have no plans." Draco said, a lack of emotion in his voice and face.

A pause formed and the attention was set on Draco. "Well—plans are a bit unnecessary for some. You have the whole year to figure out what you visualize for your future." Slughorn explained, a light in his voice. "Miss Weasley, I heard Ron has become an Auror. Any interesting stories?"

A moment of peace in his turbulent mind was abruptly drained as his forearm stole his attention, like children carving their initials into his arm, careless of his emotion. No one cared for his feelings and why would they? He was a Death Eater for fucks sake. A Death Eater couldn't have any emotion—guess not, Draco assumed. He didn't. It was like his body was going through the motions, aimlessly doing as told, but not a soul truly cared. 

The bottom of his palm attached itself to his forearm, pressing in the hopes of relieving the pain. His teeth clenched, tightening his jaw like it was being wired shut. Something had to relieve the pain. A fork—.

"What's wrong?" Penelope whispered.

"What?" Draco hissed.

"Your arm—what's wrong with your arm?" 

Before Draco had the chance to spit something back, the pain vanished as it did every time. The abruptness could make him believe he was a nutter. One moment, he is in excruciating pain, the next, he is in tranquility. Perhaps he was going mad, insanity creeping in like the bogeyman outside of a child's room. 

"Hello?"

"Nothing is wrong with my arm, you crank." Draco spat as he adjusted himself in his seat.

"You were just—"

"Mind your fucking business."

Penelope sat back in her chair scanning the man beside her. A man who was making her go insane. There was clearly something affecting him—right? He was completely fine now. Was she just seeing things? Must have been.


	5. Chapter 5

Another week sped by filled with mountains of school assignments. Penelope frequently switched between the Gryffindor common room, Head common room, and the library, depending on the day, to work. If Seamus held a storytelling night in their shared common room then she would make herself comfortable in the Head common room. If Theo and Draco parked themselves in Head common room then the library became her last resort, and often becoming her only option. Sometimes her luck would be bad enough to find Draco located in a secluded section of the library scribbling away at, what Penelope assumed was, his homework. 

There were a few occurrences where Penelope would be one of the few remaining at the library late at night alongside Draco, his head usually tucked away in a book while his quill trailed along a piece of parchment. At times his hands would run through his hair as he laid back in his chair, letting out a puff of air as if he were holding it in—a bit of an odd sight for Penelope when she was used to seeing a cloud of smoke escape when he did. 

Potions that week contained many compliments towards Draco, creating a few dirty looks from Hermione and silence from Penelope. Hermione was also receiving her fair share, as well as Penelope, but it seemed Draco was becoming one of Professor Slughorn's favorites. While it was repulsive to think Draco was a favorite student for a teacher, especially for her favorite class, she rather enjoyed the competition. On top of all her other work, she now began studying the in-class assignment for Potions a week in advance, like how she assumed Draco was doing. 

Defense Against the Dark Arts that week was a review of jinxes they had learned over their years at Hogwarts. Dixon propped herself on her desk and began asking questions to the students. Most were simple since they were learned from their early years but a few hadn't been learned yet, most of which were asked directly at Penelope. Penelope was able to answer most but slipped on one, causing a smirk to appear on the professor's face and created a few laughs from the Slytherins sitting in the back. Relief came only when Hermione was unable to answer the question.

Later that day, students were allowed the option to go to Hogsmeade; the students changed and met outside in one of the courtyards for McGonagall to release them. They were informed a few Aurors would be wandering Hogsmeade but they had already checked the area for suspicious activity, relieving the anxiety of a few Ravenclaw students. Once released, an Auror traveled with the group down.

"That should be me." Seamus huffed, nodding his head in the direction of the Auror.

"Not everyone can be like Harry and Ron." Neville said, sympathetically. Seamus followed Neville's comment with a groan. 

"What's so special—." Before Seamus could finish, Ginny slapped his arm.

Once the students arrived, they began splitting off; Hermione, Ginny, and Penelope strode along the pavement till they reached the few shops they wanted to get a few things from. Penelope picked up a new quill since hers was becoming worn down, Hermione picked up the book about the Wizarding War she had heard about at the Slug Club dinner, and Ginny bought a few sweets.

After, the girls walked up to the Three Broomsticks where they told the others they would meet them. Only a few steps in the door, Hermione shouted and ran over to a man dressed in all black with bright red hair.

Ron engulfed Hermione into a hug, wrapping her tightly, unwilling to let go. Ron pulled away and cupped her cheeks and planted his lips on hers. After moments, they parted and laughed as they gazed into each other's eyes. 

"Penelope! Ginny!" Ron called out after, looking at the two girls left at the entrance. Penelope and Ginny ran over and hugged the Auror.

"Ron! I didn't know you'd be here!" Hermione laughed.

"I wanted it to be a surprise but I was worried you lot wouldn't show." Ron responded with his usual big grin. "Let's get a table."

"We told Neville and Seamus—." Ginny started.

"I think they'll understand. I talked to them thirty minutes ago." Ron said, waving to a table containing Seamus, Neville, Dean, and a few other students.

The four sat at a table in the corner of the place, trying to stay as secluded as possible. Ron told the girls he wasn't able to stay long since he was technically on duty. Ginny asked about Harry but unfortunately, Ron explained he got stationed in Diagon Alley for the week. After updating the girls on his stories as an Auror, Hermione grabbed the book she bought a couple of stores down.

"What's that?" Ron asked. 

"It's a book about the war. I was curious about how accurate it is." Hermione replied, flipping through pages.

"I'm curious to see what it says about those bloody Death Eaters." Ron muttered.

"Is it true what the _Prophet_ is saying—I mean—there are still some roaming the streets?" Penelope asked.

"No, it's not—." Ginny started, furrowing her eyebrows, but was quickly stopped.

"Yes, it is." Ron interrupted, bringing his head closer to the group. "And that's only what the public knows. They would go mad if they knew the information the Ministry was keeping."

"Like what?" Penelope asked.

"The attacks. People are mysteriously dying. . . People working for Shacklebolt are convincing him that it's a good idea not to tell the Wizarding community so they aren't afraid like before, but—I don't know—I'm just an Auror."

Hermione looked up from the book. "Is it really that bad?"

"From what I've heard, yes." Ron peered over Ginny's shoulder to find a man, dressed in all black, enter the building. "I've got to go."

Ron got up and gave a hug to everyone at the table before smashing his lips to Hermione's. He then whispered something in her ear, making her laugh, and left alongside the other Auror. The girls sat back down, trying to ignore the flood of sadness washing over them.

"Butterbeer?" Penelope asked the group. They all nodded in agreement and Penelope made her way over to order.

A bald man, in what looked like his late fifties, was wiping down the counter before he saw the honey-streaked brunette step up. With a wave of his wand, the rag began rubbing up and down along the counter beside him. "What'll it be?"

"Three butterbeers, please." 

The man nodded and waved his wand, making three glass flip up to allow for him to pour in the butterscotch-colored liquid. Once filled, the cups were grabbed by Penelope and she turned around to find an attractive brunette boy waiting behind her. 

" _Penny_ , we are always meeting like this." Theo smirked.

"Meeting like what?" Penelope grumbled.

"You know—you looking for me and then you finding me after dreaming about me for hours the night before." His sarcasm was nearly hidden by the serious look on his face.

"I'm not sure what made you believe that but I need to get back to my friends." Penelope began walking back to her table, only to look back and receive a wink from Theo. _Strange man_.

After returning back to the table, the girls talked for a while about the senseless drama they've heard throughout the week: Neville pining for Luna, a third-year asking Dean out and being turned down, and Seamus's plan to ask Penelope out. Penelope nearly gagged at the last comment, causing laughs to fill their corner.

Later that night, Penelope and Hermione sat in the Head common room working on the Defense Against the Dark Arts essay while Ginny was at quidditch practice. It was one of the few times where the girls were the only ones in the common room; it didn't last long as Blaise burst out of his room.

"Why didn't you tell me how late it was?" He demanded.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"The meeting with the headmaster tonight?"

"Oh my—we need to go!"

Blaise didn't dare hide his scowl. "I'm clearly aware of that."

Hermione scrambled her book and papers into a pile and placed them on the table between the two couches. "We'll finish later." Hermione informed as she ran out the door with Blaise. Penelope resumed her homework but noticed a hand catch the door as it was closing.

"Penny!" Theo teased, taking a spot on the couch opposite, kicking his feet up on the table in front of him.

"Please stop calling me that." Penelope said, keeping her eyes on the book in her lap.

"I know you like it. Want one?" Theo held a cigarette in reach of Penelope.

"I don't smoke."

"One won't hurt."

"No, thank you." Penelope answered, flipping a couple of pages.

Theo chucked and lit the stick in his hand, inhaling its contents as he sunk into the furniture. "What are you working on?" He somehow seemed interested.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts essay." Penelope said, shortly.

"I really should get—wait—you could help me." Theo smirked, then placed the stick in between his lips.

"Do you need my help?" Penelope asked, annoyed—already knowing the answer.

"Thanks, Penny!" The man stood and moved himself to sit beside Penelope, who adjusted herself as he sat too close.

"Call me that name one more time and I'll stop."

Theo's hands hit the air in surrender. "Alright, _Penelope_." 

"What do you need help with, exactly?"

"Everything."

Penelope rolled her eyes and closed her book, leaving her fingers inside to mark her spot. "Do you know the prompt?" 

"No." Theo smirked.

"How did you plan on—."

"Draco usually tells me."

"Does Draco help you with everything?" Penelope asked sarcastically, keeping her grin at a low level.

"Ha. . . ha. No."

"Right, well, we have to write an essay about the top—."

"God, I hate writing essays." Theo groaned as he laid the back of his head against the couch.

"Did you want my—." Penelope began, only to be interrupted by the door flinging open.

"Just in time. _Penny_ —I mean Penelope was just helping me with the essay in that one class." Penelope held in her groan, realizing she wasted time talking to Theo about something he cared nothing for.

Draco casually sat across from the two, pulling out a stick from his pocket and lighting it. "Like I would need help." Draco criticized. "Where's Blaise?"

"Not sure—." Theo began, but was interrupted by Penelope.

"Blaise and Hermione had a meeting with the headmistress."

"Perfect." Draco spat, sarcastically.

"Let's continue." Theo said, grabbing Penelope's book. As Theo began flipping to random pages, Penelope watched knowing he didn't plan on getting any work done. "Saw you talking to Ron. He's an Auror?" Theo asked.

"Yes." Penelope replied, sliding the book back into her lap.

" _Weasley?_ An Auror? Never thought I'd see the day _Weaselbee_ would become anything but a housewife." Draco mocked, then placed the stick in between his teeth, allowing the stick to balance along the edges.

Anger filled Penelope as he laid back on the couch, believing his words were humorous. As if Ron shouldn't get the credit he deserved. 

"Jealous?" Penelope jeered. Draco sat up, placed his elbows on his knees, and forced the stick to stabilize between his fingers as if it were on a tight rope.

"Are you serious?" Draco asked, debating on whether or not throwing the table was a good idea.

"Yes." Penelope flipped back to the page she was previously deciphering. 

"They were begging anyone to join their club." Penelope could hear how enraged he was by her words; she liked it. 

"It's not a club and you have to be highly qualified to become an Auror." Penelope smirked down at her book.

"Anybody can become an Auror, even me." Draco spat, laying back on the couch, rolling the stick tightly between his index and thumb, nearly crushing it.

"If you applied yourself, yes." Penelope replied.

Draco was taken back by her words. He expected her to tell him that someone with the mark like his could never become an Auror. They were the people searching for his kind for fucks sake. But yet, she inherently agreed—like she believed he could actually obtain the job. _Fucking idiot._

Penelope heard Draco respond with a scoff as she glided her fingers along the page. She knew he was intelligent—intelligent enough to become one whether or not they would accept him for his past. But she didn't mean for him to actually hear it. She slipped up, and now he would know she at least thought he had the minimum brain cells for the job.

"Draco?" Theo laughed, pointing his cigarette in Draco's direction. "Like he could become an Auror."

Draco watched as an artery in Theo's neck bounced as he let huffs of air out of his mouth—a laugh many referred to it as. Draco was letting it bounce. At any moment, he could whip out his wand and do what his father did to many as he watched, fearfully. No—he didn't watch _fearfully_ —he wasn't a child. Death was a part of life—and sometimes it was forced on people, making their bodies fall soullessly onto the cold, hard ground. It was a part of life, Draco repeated. 

"At least he is in the proper classes." Penelope snapped, adjusting herself after allowing those words to be formed from her voice box. What was wrong with her?

Theo scanned the woman beside him, almost as though he had never been talked down to before by a woman like her. Theo's eyes felt like daggers and Penelope didn't dare see the expression forming on Draco's face. It must have been a grin of some sort.

Defending him once again? What was wrong with her? A grin couldn't help but appear slightly across his face, but he hid it as he forced the stick between his lips. Her hair draped around her face as she lowered her head—embarrassment, he assumed. Nothing more than an accidental escape of words, breaking free from their cell. It was troublesome holding back the satisfying feeling, but he was able to manage. His eyes then soared over to Theo, watching as he forced out a laugh out. Smoke covered the scene for a moment as a cloud left Draco's parted lips, but after, he watched it play out.

"Right." Theo laughed. "What were you saying about the essay?"

Penelope forced the words to breach her lips. "It's due next week and it's about the top two important jinxes to know and why."

"So, what are they?" Theo asked, innocently.

"I can't tell you. That's the biggest part of the assignment." Penelope closed her book and placed it beside her.

"Then how are you supposed to help me?" 

"I assumed I could help point you in the right direction or maybe edit your essay."

"Seriously?" Theo complained. 

"Yes—well then—what does _he_ do when he helps you?" Penelope asked, nodding her head in the direction of Draco like he was a worthless statue placed in the room. 

He had been accustomed to such actions from the insignificant bodies that roamed the halls, but from _her_ , it felt—appalling. It was something he couldn't explain, and something he didn't want to try. 

"I give him the answers." Draco snarled, putting out what was left of his cigarette. 

"The full answers?"

"Are you stupid? Yes, the full fucking answers." He spat, staring her down. 

"You expected me to give you the full answers?" Penelope then asked Theo.

Ignored once again. Something he would not allow happen often. "Is it a problem if he did?"

Penelope pointed her attention back to Draco, eyeing him down, acknowledging his attempt at provoking her. "You know the answer to that, _right?_ " Sarcasm slid off her tongue with ease.

Before Draco had the chance to shoot back, the door opened, letting Pansy stride in with excitement in each step. "Where's Blaise?"

"Meeting." Theo groaned. 

A sigh left her lips as she plopped down next to Draco, only then acknowledging the tension. Pansy's index drifted between Draco and Penelope. "What's with the—"

"Nothing." Draco spat. 

"Clearly it isn't—"

"Mind your business." He needed no one to involve themselves in _his_ business.

"Penelope, please just help me." Theo begged, almost in teasing way.

Penelope began gathering her papers. "Draco can give you the answers if he so pleases."

"I want your help." Theo's hand landed on Penelope's inner thigh.

Penelope lifted his hand with disgust. "Don't touch me, Theo." 

"Please." One of Theo's arms wrapped around Penelope's shoulders and his other rested, again, on her thigh.

While Penelope untangled herself from his grasp, something sparked in Draco—a fire. It was building within him, uncontrollable. An unexplainable feeling to him—something unnatural. It wasn't for her— _it wasn't_. Couldn't have been. Theo's a fucking prick and needed to be controlled. 

In an instant, Draco rose from his spot, walked up to Theo, and shoved his fist into Theo's face. Theo's hands rose to his new mark, puzzling together what had happened. Draco wobbled back to his seat and sat emotionless, realizing what he had done. All he could hear was Penelope's gasp.

"What the hell Draco?" Pansy yelled as she stood.

"The git told me I couldn't become an Auror." Draco said, pushing back the aching thought of the _truth_. 

"Fuck, mate!" Theo bellowed. "A measly little joke got you?"

"I— _uh_ —have to go." Penelope blurted, snatching her things up as she stood and scurried out.

Pansy conjured a piece of cloth, a cube of ice, and placed them on Theo's growing bruise. "I'm really liking the new Draco."


	6. Chapter 6

"It's not a date!"

"Walking around the lake with him?" Hermione recited. "It would be safe to assume it is a date." 

Penelope laid back onto Hermione's bed, clasping her hands over her eyes. "Dean doesn't like me like that."

"Then explain to me why he's turned down two girls already." The book resting in Hermione's lap closed and was tossed onto a side table, allowing Hermione to pull one of her legs onto her bed to fully face Penelope.

"One of those girls don't count." Penelope took her hands off her eyes. "One of them was a third-year."

"What's the excuse for the other girl?" Hermione humored. 

"Maybe she wasn't his type?" 

"His type?"

Penelope sat up. "All boys have a type!"

Ginny walked into the room and closed the door behind her. 

"Ginny! Just in time! Can you tell Penelope that Dean asked her on a date?"

"So he finally did it? Of course, it's a date."

" _Finally?_ " Penelope questioned.

"He's been going on about asking a girl out for weeks. We could tell he must have been talking about you since you're all he seems to talk about."

"So you didn't feel the need to tell me?" Penelope blurted. 

"I didn't want to say anything until I knew for sure it was you. . . and now I know."

"Do you not want to go?" Hermione asked.

"It's not that I don't want to—he's just my friend. I didn't realize he liked me like that." Penelope then looked at Ginny. "Are you alright with this?" 

Ginny chuckled lightly. "We dated ages ago."

"I was just checking." Penelope mumbled as she laid back beside Ginny.

Hermione tapped her index fingers on Penelope's thigh. "What time are you two meeting?"

"I think he said one." A sigh followed.

"It's ten till!" Hermione yelled. She hopped off her bed and pulled Penelope's limp body up.

"Fine! Alright!"

"Now go, before he changes his mind!" Hermione joked, leading Penelope out of the room and waved as she trudged down the steps, receiving a hefty sigh in response.

Penelope walked past the empty couches where the Slytherin men usually sat and smoked their cigarettes. A week had passed since Draco slammed his fist into Theo's face, and given Draco rarely attended dinner anymore and barely interacted with Theo during class, they weren't speaking. Draco was also less keen on disrupting Penelope during class, even sly glances were no longer apart of his routine. She even stepped in front of him one day and he did nothing but walk around her like she was some sort of prickly rose bush. 

It was strange. She expected the version of Draco who no longer spoke to be wonderful. But it was quite the opposite. Her days went by slower as if she had nothing to look forward to—no one to look forward to. Her classes were becoming much more difficult and her friends each had something more in their lives: Hermione was Head Girl, Dean and Ginny had Quidditch, Luna was in Professor Trelawney's office more, and Neville was becoming an aid for Professor Sprout. Even if Penelope considered Seamus a close friend, he was becoming quite the popular student in the Gryffindor house. But for Penelope, she went to class, completed the work given, and hung around her friends when they were free. _Nothing more_.

Penelope arrived at the top of the Entrance hall and saw Dean waiting down the marble steps, beaming at the sight of her. She smiled back and walked down. 

_This wasn't a date. This wasn't a date_. 

"Ready to go?" Dean asked, without dropping his smile and Penelope nodded.

The sun trickled its warmth down as the pair wandered down the rickety steps leading to the lake. It was one of the last few days filled with the summer warmth.

"When's your game?" Penelope asked, carefully watching her steps. 

"Couple of weeks. You coming?" Dean nudged Penelope, making her look up and giggle.

"Of course, everyone goes."

"I only care if you're there." He grinned. 

She jerked her head down to the path as a blush appeared across her cheeks. Deflect. "Has Ginny been working you guys pretty hard?"

"Not nearly as much as you would think." 

"Is she a good captain?"

"Honestly, I think she is the best captain the Gryffindor team has ever had." 

"I'm not the least bit surprised." Penelope chuckled.

"Oh—I forgot to ask you. Have you finished all of the Charms reading?" 

"A few days ago. Have you?"

"Almost." Dean laughed. "You are always so studious. I'm surprised you agreed to _this_."

Penelope laughed before nudging his arm. "I always—." Her heel slide across the stone, and before her body let itself hit the floor, Dean grabbed her.

"You alright?" 

Penelope could see Dean was trying to hold back his laugh as he asked. "Yes! But don't you dare laugh!" Penelope smacked his arm, causing the pair to roar with laughter. 

"You better hold on. Can't have you slipping." Her arm snaked through his and they continued on.

Once down, the stone steps lead into a wooden walkway hovering over the shore around the lake. The conversations were no different than any other day. Penelope explained how perfect Neville was for Luna, and Dean agreed, telling her about the flower Neville grew for her. Then, they both complained about the fifth-year Prefects believing they were all-knowing and about the first-year students running around the corridors. After, Dean told her Seamus tried to make a move on a girl in the Gryffindor common room one late night and she ran to bed, giggling. They both laughed since Dean had warned him of her uninterest.

"Peony bush!" Dean pointed to one of the many plants standing beside Penelope as they walked. 

"They must be going out of season." Penelope huffed. She cupped one flower in her hand as she knelt down beside the bush. 

"My mother has a few of these bushes in her garden."

"Does she? Are they her favorite?" 

"I think one of her favorites."

Penelope took in a breath and released it, watching as the flower resting in her palm revived into a fully bloomed one. "Now that's impressive!" Dean called from behind her. 

"Thanks." Penelope replied, looking over her shoulder. She stood up and waved her hand over the bush, causing all the flowers to bloom as if the air had become crisp from spring.

"Show off." He laughed. "I can do something like that." Dean picked up a stick lying between the bushes and tapped his wand in the center, forming a limp rose. "Close enough." 

Penelope placed her fingers along the stem, making the rose bloom like the flowers around. 

"I was trying to impress you." Dean teased, then handed the freshly bloomed rose to Penelope.

"I am impressed!" Penelope grinned into the rose. 

After giving the flower a few twirls in between her fingers, she glanced up to find Dean staring at her, intensely. And, without warning, his hands met her cheeks and his lips greeted hers. 

_Fuck, it was a date_. 

The shock passed after seconds and she kissed him back, allowing their lips to converse. It wasn't a bad kiss—she didn't expect it—but it wasn't bad. It was Dean—her friend. Her friend she never thought would be interested in her more than just a great conversation. But this was the most interesting thing to happen to her all week. _Interesting_. Is that why she didn't stop? No, she and Dean got along really well. Well enough for others to think they would be a good match. Maybe they were—and maybe she would eventually believe it. 

His lips parted from hers and he gazed into her eyes. "I've wanted to do that for a while."

 _A while?_

"Really?" Penelope asked, lightly smiling up at him as he nodded.

"Green." 

"What?" 

"Your eyes. They're green. I always thought they were blue." His hands dropped from her face and he took her hand before leading her back up, talking about the same things they always did.

"You kissed him!" Hermione shouted.

Penelope laughed as she watched Hermione pace her room. "No, he kissed me."

"You two actually kissed! I mean—wow!"

"He gave you a rose and kissed you?" Ginny asked after. "That git was far more romantic with you than he ever was with me."

"Don't be dramatic." Penelope said, lightly slapping Ginny's arm. 

"How was it?" Hermione questioned, parking herself beside Penelope and shaking her arm.

"I'm guessing the same as when Ron kissed you." Penelope shrugged.

"What do you mean 'you guess'?"

"Your kiss—you considered it special?"

"Yes—so your kiss was special?" Hermione asked, enthusiastically. Too enthusiastically for Penelope.

Special enough. "Yes." Penelope forced a smile, believing it was what her friends wanted to see. It was what Penelope should feel.

"So you two are dating?" Ginny asked, sitting up on the other side of Penelope. 

"He didn't really say—."

"Of course they are!" Hermione announced.

Dating? Dean? He was a man any girl would want to date. He was handsome, respectful, intelligent, and had common sense—something many boys seemed to lack. Their conversations were effortless—perfect for a relationship, Penelope assumed. Everything would work out. _Just go with it_. 

After Penelope answered all of Hermione and Ginny's dying questions, they went down for dinner. Penelope sat beside Dean, like usual, and Hermione sat on her other side while their other friends sat across. A minute into being seated, Dean took her hand below the table, forcing a rush of heat to flood Penelope's cheeks. This time she chose not to hide it since it was something she would need to get used to. 

"So it is true?" Seamus asked, an annoyed tone clinging to his voice.

"I had to ask her before you did." Dean teased, then winked at Penelope.

"I wish Luna would go on a date with me." Neville huffed, pushing the meat around with his fork. 

"That requires you to actually ask her." Ginny said. " _Oh_ —Seamus, I heard about your late night with that sixth year."

"I don't want to talk about it." Seamus muttered. 

"Why not? It's not like..." The conversation became background noise as Penelope watched the platinum blonde man walk into the Great Hall, strutting in like he had a mission—but his mission must have been only to eat since he sat at an empty section of the table, speaking to no one. Once Pansy had noticed, she sat beside him, quickly starting a conversation he didn't seem to care for. 

Theo and Blaise sat down the table, next to Daphne Greengrass and—Penelope assumed—her sister, unbothered by the new student who entered the room.

It was one of the first times Penelope had seen Draco in the Great Hall for dinner in a week. She was unsure how he was eating, or if he was eating, and honestly, she couldn't care. Draco wouldn't have cared about her well-being, so there was no reason for her to care for his. But she did watch him from across the room. 

Draco took two scoops of something lumpy, perhaps potatoes, and slapped them on his plate like sludge. His hair was ruffled, falling in places she normally hadn't seen. His skin looked paler than usual, like he hadn't seen the light of day. The fork, being strangled in his hand, stabbed into his plate, breaking the dish into three, then was abruptly repaired by a flick of Pansy's wand. The broken plate didn't stop her from spewing words out of her mouth. 

Usually, Penelope would have assumed she was flirting, but she just seemed worried—maybe upset—by something. Pansy was possibly venting to Draco—like they were friends. But Draco was like a perfectly timed clock, rolling his eyes every other sentence. 

That didn't bother Pansy. 

"Right, Penelope?" A voice asked.

Penelope whipped her attention back to her table. "I'm sorry?"

"The absurd amount of Transfiguration pages to read." Seamus repeated.

"Oh—yes, the thirty pages was extreme." Penelope thought the complete opposite, in fact.

"I'm sure Penelope finished it already." Dean chuckled, raising their intertwined fingers above the table to rest. "I know Hermione did."

Penelope smiled and let her friends continue their conversation. She wandered her eyes back over to the man where they always seemed to land on. And, for the first time in days, he was looking at her. Not just looking, he was studying her. His eyebrows no longer carelessly rested above his eyelids; instead, they were pouting, expressing anger. His blue eyes darkened, forcing the hair on the back of her neck to stand and a shiver to strike her body like lightning to a tree, sparking a fire. A fire within her. Excitement. The _why_ for his stares was a dull question—a lifeless question—but the _what_ made her heart palpitate. What was he going to do? 

Dean tugged at her fingers. "I have practice." He whispered into her ear. 

No excitement, no irregular heartbeat, and no fire. 

"Alright." Penelope innocently smiled at Dean who beamed back at her. His lips met the top of her head before he walked away with Ginny. 

Penelope looked back to feel the intensity of those blue eyes, but the spot was empty. What? Penelope's eyes scanned the room only to discover the blonde storming out of the Great Hall alongside Pansy. _Where was he going?_ If Penelope was correct, he had only taken two bites of whatever laid on his plate.

"That'll make me sick." Seamus growled.

"What will?" Penelope asked.

"Dean getting all—kissy, kissy. Save it for another time, why don't you." Penelope rolled her eyes in response, thinking about the rush she felt from Draco. It was short-lived yet every time the memory resurfaced, it was revived.

 _Fourth fucking corridor. Twenty steps. Corner. Fifth fucking corridor._ His breath was turbulent—uncontrollable—preparing to crash. _Twenty-two steps. Corner._ A voice was following him, one he didn't care to acknowledge at the moment. _Sixth fucking corridor._ Counting his steps could only help so much. _Twelve steps. The door. Finally._

The restricted section was Draco's destination—a place to land—controllable. A book met his hand after raising it to a shelf—a book he had been looking over throughout his days in exile. 

That thickheaded git couldn't tell when enough was enough and Blaise just chose the safe option. Being alone wasn't something new to Draco, in fact, he quite enjoyed his time alone if his thoughts didn't remind him of his trial or if thoughts of a woman with honey brown hair didn't trail his mind. 

And now she was dating that brainless idiot, Dean Thomas. His fingers mangled into hers could only mean dating, right? With intelligence like hers, it was hard for Draco to imagine her wasting it on Thomas. _Dean fucking Thomas?_

Why did he care? 

Now that was a question he loathed, mostly due to his inability to answer. He had convinced himself of its unimportance and focused on anything else he could grasp. And after his altercation with Theo's cheekbone, he had to convince himself to stay away from _her_. She was a disease and her side effects caused him to do things that had consequences. Consequences he couldn't risk. His stay in Azkaban was approaching and there was no need for an early check-in.

"It's not even like Daphne is—."

"What?" Draco sneered, pausing his task of finding his last read page.

Pansy took her feet off the table and adjusted herself in her seat beside Draco. "Daphne isn't Theo's type."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Friends tell each other things." Pansy explained, but she saw no change in Draco's face. "Fuck, Draco, I just need someone to talk to."

"And you chose to torment me?" 

"Yes—well, you know Theo—" Draco huffed at the name. "—and I'm assuming you are aware of who Daphne—." 

"—Greengrass, yes." Draco interrupted.

"Do you think they are dating?" Pansy asked.

"Dating? Why would you care?"

"Fuck, Draco. Can you act like my friend for five minutes?"

"No, Nott is not dating Daphne." Draco began flipping through the pages once more. "At least he wasn't a week ago."

"He only started being around Daphne a few days ago!" Pansy spat.

"Keep your voice down!" Draco snapped. "Then I have no idea if Nott is dating her."

"Punching Theo was a bit inconvenient."

"My bad. Before I punch him next time, I will make sure it's at a good time for you." Draco rolled his eyes back to the book below his hand.

"Why did you punch him anyway?"

"Like I need to tell you." Draco hissed, before finding the correct page: **Memory Altercation**.

"It's not like Theo hadn't said anything like that before."

"Drop it."

"Fine." Pansy remained in her seat.

Draco glanced at her. "Are you done?"

"Yes."

"Then are you planning on leaving?"

"No, actually, I have potions to work on." Pansy began pulling out her work while Draco watched in dismay. Pansy caught a glimpse of the look on Draco's face. "You're good at potions, right?"

"Yes—."

"Then, when I need help, I'll ask you."

Draco had bigger things to be concerned with. "Fine."

"Fine." Pansy echoed.


	7. Chapter 7

The October chill snuck up on the students in a week's time. Clouds filled the sky and dropped rain more often than not. The courtyards became barren and the common rooms were overflowing. 

Penelope's week was no different than the rest, except for the addition of a boy. Dean joined her during late-night studying in the common room on the nights she wasn't with Hermione and he walked her to class whenever it was convenient. It had only been a few days but it was getting quite exhausting. 

Their relationship changed more than just the title. She didn't know what to expect but she had just assumed they would be friends with a bit of snogging. She was wrong. There was a pressure now. A pressure to have a perfect relationship. A pressure to _be perfect_. 

Dean flirted with her excessively and found various times to kiss her during the day—too many times, she thought. But it may not have been the acts, in general, that rattled her, it may have just been who it was with. 

Dean was one of her best friends and now it began to feel as though their relationship was crumbling and rebuilding into something completely different. She found it a bit cringe, really.

And if Dean's constant affection didn't remind her of their relationship, then her friends would. They began finding new ways to tease the couple, same as they did with Ginny and Harry in their sixth year. They would go on about how perfect the pair was and Dean would eat it up, saving no leftovers for Penelope. 

About three days into the relationship, Penelope realized she began to get the ick—a term many of the girls used in her fifth year to describe the feeling of no longer being fond of their partner and finding everything cringe. Penelope was informed it would eventually pass. _Hopefully_. 

Dinners in the Great Hall were no different—the occasional hand-holding, a few entertaining stories about the Prefects, and still no attendance from a blonde-haired man. With each day that passed, she began to see him less and less at their meals; the sight of Draco at breakfast was becoming as rare as seeing him at dinner. 

But, to her surprise, his attendance in class was quite the opposite. He never missed a class and was still receiving praise from Slughorn, and from any other professor who called on him. Penelope couldn't figure out how he was doing it—keeping up with the workload, that is. Somehow, he was doing just as well as her in all the classes they shared.

After Saturday night dinner, Penelope, Hermione, and Dean walked up to the library and studied—Potions for Hermione and Penelope; Charms for Dean. Only minutes after arranging her material over the table did Penelope notice Pansy walk all the way to the restricted section, then disappear behind the countless number of bookcases. Many upper-level students used the books in the back to do their assignment so it wasn't that odd. 

Penelope stared only for a moment, then returned her attention back to her work.

"Here." Pansy said, carelessly. 

"What exactly am I supposed to do with that?" Draco spat while returning a book to its shelf.

"Eat it." She placed a plate of food beside the books laying on the table.

"Don't humiliate me with your pity." 

"I don't pity you. You are just far more compliant when you've eaten a decent meal." Pansy took a seat at the table. "Eat!" She demanded.

Draco collapsed into a chair and dragged the plate in front of him. "Just so you are aware, I'm not eating this for you."

"I wouldn't want it any other way." Pansy replied, kicking her feet up onto the table. "So when are you and Theo going to stop acting like schoolgirls and move on?"

Draco didn't pause from devouring his dinner to groan.

Pansy let out an aggressive sigh. "Just apologize already."

He swallowed the food in his mouth and looked at her nastily like a bad taste appeared on his tongue. "Like I need to apologize to that piece of—."

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

"I am not—."

"Don't you dare say 'stubborn'." Pansy threatened. 

Draco swallowed another bite of whatever laid beneath him. He really didn't care what it was. "Piss off."

"Fuck, Draco, you eat like a pig."

A groan was given from Draco.

"When do you eat?" 

There was no response while Draco finished.

"I don't see you at dinner and I barely see you during lunch and breakfast is not—."

"Do you ever mind your own business?" Draco smashed the fork onto the plate, letting the sound ring around their section of the library. 

"Temperamental." Pansy chuckled. She watched as Draco's mouth began to open. "Don't you dare say you aren't."

"Mind fucking off?" After a flick of his wand, his plate and silverware disappeared and allowed for him to continue skimming through the various books resting in front of him.

"Dinner is so boring without you." Pansy huffed.

"I'm sure you have plenty of company."

"I do." She smirked. "That doesn't mean they aren't boring."

"Like I would join you if I did plan on going."

"Plan? When are you supposed to eat then?" 

Draco huffed. "I am trying to read."

"Why don't you go to dinner anymore?"

"Piss off." 

"If your reason is Theo—."

"Have you heard a word I said?" Draco hissed, before slamming the book shut and grabbing another from the stack.

"That's not the reason. You are far too prideful. So friends are out of the question." Pansy closely examined Draco. "A girl, perhaps?" It only took her a few seconds to see a slight adjustment of his shoulders. "There is no way." Pansy dropped her feet from the table and inched closer.

"What?" He spat, carelessly looking over his shoulder.

"A girl is the reason you are not going to dinner?"

"Are you really that simple-minded?"

"I've obviously struck something within you. Tell me who." 

"With everything going on in my life, you think a _girl_ is what I'm getting worked up about?"

A chuckle formed in Pansy's vocal cords. "Don't give me that. You are only going to make it harder on yourself if you don't tell me."

Another book slammed shut and slid across to meet the pile of useless ones. "There is no _fucking_ girl."

"Is it someone in Slytherin?"

" _Leave!_ " Draco howled.

"Alright, fine. I'll leave." Pansy stood and pulled her bag up to her side. 

"Finally." He said under his breath. 

Pansy flicked her wand at his chair, making it slide out from under the desk and turn to face her. It only took milliseconds for her wand to meet his left cheekbone. "No matter how hard you try, you can't push me away." And then, her wand bid goodbye to his scowl. 

Draco fixed himself in the chair as he watched her walk out. "Same time tomorrow, _loverboy_."

More time passed and the number of students in the library trickled each time the clock ticked. Penelope's quill wandered the parchment, the only noise in the empty library. Hermione had left an hour before to meet with the Prefects and Dean left twenty minutes after to get enough sleep for a scrimmage the next morning. That was not before his lips attacked her neck, leaving behind wet kisses. It didn't last long since a passing sixth year Slytherin expressed their disgust. 

There were only a few sections of the library with light remaining: the entrance, the candle on her table, and a light in the back behind a few bookcases. She knew the area in the back, the restricted section. Pansy walked out well over an hour ago. 

Someone was still back there. 

Penelope knew not much more work was going to get done so she shoved her things into her bag and sludged it over her shoulder. The candlelight died at her table as she darted to the other light source. 

And, not to her surprise, there sat the man—the man who consistently crossed her mind, something she could not understand. His robes relaxed on a chair beside him, leaving him in only a white button-up and his signature Slytherin tie. The top buttons were undone, not revealing much, but his sleeves were rolled up to just barely reveal the dark mark if she were in range. One hand combed through his hair while the other held a page in preparation of being flipped. Books were sprawled across the table; some opened, some marked, and some were clearly not useful. 

Her knuckles hit the side of a nearby bookcase three distinct times. 

"I'll be done in a minute." Draco muttered as his eyes grazed the words.

"I'm not Madam Pince."

He glanced over and was shocked. "What do _you_ want?"

"I don't want anything."

"Then are you here to lecture me on something? Or worse, you're here to bother me." Draco began to gather the books.

"Don't leave on my account."

"I already have enough to deal with."

"Like?"

Was she serious? He didn't inspect her face for any sign of sarcasm so he, instead, groaned. But, to his dismay, she walked over and grabbed one of the open books. He snatched it from her, hopefully, in time for her not to have read anything. 

"Memory altercation?"

 _Fuck_.

After stacking the books, he instructed them to return to their spots on the shelves. "No."

Penelope watched the books fly up to the shelves around. "No?"

"Did I stutter?" He spat.

"But I read—."

"You didn't." 

Penelope grabbed a chair and took a seat. "What did I read then?" 

Gathering his papers didn't stop him from viewing her—observing her. The smirk on her face clearly explained her remark. Sarcasm. So he entertained her question. "I can't read your mind, Burton."

Her shoes rested against the side of the table, allowing her to balance on the hind legs of the chair. "You can't use legilimency?"

There was no change in which muscles were being used in her face. "If I could, I wouldn't tell _you_." 

The expression dropped and a silence was born. It wasn't uncomfortable—it was a bearable silence. A silence only a few people could share without dying from the feeling. It allowed him to think. Why wasn't she with that prick? Why was she here? And why did he not mind? Well, a portion of him did mind—on principle. 

She didn't seem to mind the silence either. Her body kept rocking on the legs of the chair while she studied a bookcase across from her. Her hair glistened from the candles in the room like sunlight on a lake. And her features were delicate in a way where no sane person would want to disrupt them—fragile. He could easily think of two ways to shatter the dainty features with only a few simple words. He'd sort of done it before when he damaged her book. But why would he ruin the silence?

Then a question ran past his mind once more—why wasn't she with that prick? So he asked.

"Who?" Penelope asked. 

"Thomas." He was able to stop himself from cringing at the name, a name he never would have before. 

" _Oh_ —right. He has to get up early." 

It was like she was trying not to let out a sigh. What could make her sigh? He had many reasons of his own, but he was able to admit his reasons wouldn't be enough for her. "What? He isn't perfect enough for you?" On instinct, he sat back down on his chair, still making sure there was enough distance between the two.

She didn't just look at him, she inspected him. "I like him just the way he is."

"Pathetic." He muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"Pathetic. You and Thomas."

"What exactly is pathetic?" Penelope stopped rocking and held still on the tips of the legs.

How did he get here? Get to a conversation about her relationship? As if he actually cared—he didn't, _of course_.

"Nothing." His chair slid against the ground, away from the table. 

"Tell me." She demanded. 

Demanded? What made her think she could demand something from him?

"Leave!" He yelled as he stood up.

"Just tell—." 

The only sound to follow was a yelp as the tip of the legs slipped, forcing her to fall back. But she didn't. He grabbed her arms.

She was pulled up and realized—realized she was breathing in _his_ air. Warm, thick air. 

Their eyes reflected one another's for—Penelope had no idea. Time stood still. 

His hands remained on her arms as though he hadn't noticed he didn't remove them yet, gripping just above her elbows and brushing right against the sides of her rib cage. 

Then, his eyes walked down to her lips. _Lips_. She realized her lips were a finger length away from his. Close enough distance to lean in. Far enough distance to stay back. 

Why did she want to lean in?

But then, a flinch. A flinch that clearly disrupted his concentration.

Pain. His pain returned, something he couldn't help but thank this time. A dam broke, reality flooded in, and flushed away whatever stopped him from stepping away seconds before. He shoved his items into his bag and threw it over his shoulder. 

He caught a glimpse of her expression. "What?"

"What's wrong with your arm?"

"My arm?" He interrogated.

She studied the placement of his hand. "You're in pain."

He hadn't even realized where he put his hand. He assumed he developed a tendency to place his hand over the mark. 

The hand now rested at his side. "You've actually gone mental!"

"I'm not insane, Draco. This is the second time you were in pain—same spot, too."

"That's where you would be incorrect." He got close. "I'm not in pain, I'm never in pain, and I will never be in pain."

"Draco—."

"See? There you go again—acting like you care."

Another voice entered the room. "Time for you both to leave. The library is closed." Madam Pince spoke.

The two, instinctively, stepped away and obliged, Penelope before Draco.

"Mr. Malfoy!"

"What?" He grumbled as he stopped in front of Madam Pince. 

"First, mind your tongue. Second, the book."

"I have no book." He lied.

She held out her hand and slouched her hip as she waited. He forced his bag down from his shoulder and delivered the book to her clammy grasp. A _hmph_ was exchanged and Draco hastened out only to find an empty hallway.

 _Damn_.


	8. Chapter 8

_Observing or Stalking?_

Besides classes and her boyfriend, Penelope had something else occupying her mind. 

_Memory Altercation_.

It's what Draco was looking at. But why? There were no assignments that required that type of research, she would know. And if any other student were looking up this subject, they wouldn't have even been on her radar, but a former Death Eater doing so seemed suspicious. Not suspicious in the sense that she believed he would use it for wrongful reasons. Perhaps just suspicion. Just a reason to _observe_ him.

Sunday night was similar to the night before. Pansy visited him after dinner and left the library later—this time an hour later. Draco had three books sprawled out and opened to the pages he wanted, but she wasn't able to get any more information since she was only allowed quick glances when she walked past. Penelope, then, left the library before Madam Pince had to opportunity to give her another lecture about the time. 

This went on for three nights. 

On the fourth night, Dean insisted on a date. It was inconvenient, yes, but Penelope traveled to the library after and found no blonde man rummaging for words. It was unlike Draco to leave early.

The fifth night, he didn't even show. 

So she stopped.

Monday came days later. 

"This examination is one of many that will help prepare you for your N.E.W.T.s at the end of the year, and you all know how important those are." Professor Slughorn explained over the sound of students stuffing their bags. 

"We get it." Penelope heard a Ravenclaw boy mutter, receiving a laugh in return from his friend. She chuckled to herself when she caught sight of Hermione scowling at the boys.

A flinch disrupted her attention. It was a similar flinch Penelope had seen in the library the previous week and during one of Slughorn's dinners. Her eyes glanced across the table, discovering Draco digging the edge of his palm into his arm—unnoticeable to the average person, noticeable to an _observer_. 

One more dig finished her puzzle. It wasn't just any part of his arm, it was his left forearm—the home of _the mark She wasn't insane._

__

__

Slughorn's hand rose to the air and his digits wiggled. Draco was quick to vacate and Penelope was—

"P, want to study in my room?" Hermione asked.

Penelope turned away from the exit. "Yes, but I just need to grab something from my room. I'll meet you after." Her words were quick, creating a perplexed look on Hermione's face, but there was no time to explain. 

She had something to prove.

Two corners were turned, but his destination was unknown. His usual spots would have been occupied during the day so they were out of the question. 

Then, a spell came to mind—a spell Harry had used once or twice. Penelope muttered the incantation under her breath and followed the faintly glistening footsteps. After a few flights of stairs and many steps, the trail ended before a door. It was a classroom where Muggle Studies used to be taught before they moved the class to another section of the castle. 

Her hand met the handle, and to her surprise, it wasn't locked. Draco was usually cautious but she assumed he had thought he wasn't going to be followed all the way up there. 

The classroom was cluttered and had random boxes and antique items all over, almost like a makeshift storage closet. Center of the mess sat Draco at one of the old desks, gripping his exposed left arm. The few pieces of hair, which had fallen out of his style, hid his knitted eyebrows and part of his scowl. But in a second's time, his eyebrows were hoisted up and in direct sight while his mouth formed a slight 'o'. 

He fixed his sleeve back over his mark. "What are _you_ doing here?" There was more than disgust in his words.

She was there to prove she wasn't going mental, yet that's exactly how she felt right then. "I—."

"Spit it out!" He bellowed, rising from his seat.

"Y—you're in pain."

"How many times—" A bolt of light struck her. "—do I need to tell you to leave me alone?" Her body was adhered to the wall and was approached by the blonde. "You've been following me for days."

"I haven't—."

"You have." He grumbled.

She exhaled slowly. "How did you know?"

"You are not any more stealthy than your friends." His breath tickled her lips. "Tell me why."

"Memory altercation. You've been researching it and I was curious."

His hand struck the wall beside her. "Not _that_ —I don't give a _fuck_ about that! Why do you keep finding me?" 

"What do you mean _finding_ you?"

He groaned and stepped away. "You're everywhere! The Great Hall, the classrooms, and even the same fucking hallways!" Both of his hands combed through his hair and rested there for a second. "Why do you want to torture me?"

"Torture?"

"Don't make me repeat myself." His hips leaned against the old professor's desk while his arms cradled one another against his chest.

"Those are all the same places any student goes. You can't tell me I'm torturing you because I want to eat dinner or go to class."

He quirked a brow. "Then why do you speak to me?"

Her breath hitched at the thought of a possible answer. "I, well— _erm_ —you're different."

"How?" He seemed more curious than anything.

"Not sure."

"Is it because I'm a Death Eater?" He choked.

She paused. "Not sure."

"How are you not sure?" He inched closer again with his arms still held against his chest.

"Well, why do you talk to me?" Penelope asked, quickly.

The rims of his pale, blue eyes darkened. "You can't flip the question back on me!"

"I just did."

A grimace look spread across his face like the plague. "I don't talk to you." His voice was deeper, somehow.

She rolled her eyes. "Liar."

"Don't call me that!" His hands were on either side of her head, now.

"Alright!" 

A moment of silence followed while he analyzed her. "Why aren't you afraid of me?"

Penelope didn't have a distinct answer, she wasn't even sure herself. "I'm not afraid of much anymore."

"You need to be afraid of me!" Draco lifted and slammed his palm against the classroom wall hard enough for Penelope to believe he punctured it. "Do I need to kill someone to make you afraid?"

A gasp escaped her throat. "Why do you care so much about what I think of you?"

"You need to fear me." He whispered, darkly. " _Everyone_ fears me."

"But I don't."

His internal wall crumbled and out came the uncontrollable anger. "Fine! I'll make you fear me!"

He gripped her wrist and slid her sleeve up. The tip of his wand met the flesh on her forearm and scrapped down, carving her skin open similar to the way his flesh felt every day. Her screams were obnoxious and overbearing, forcing him to spit a muffliato charm. 

After stepping away, with his wand at his side, he reversed his first spell and allowed her to admire his work.

"Draco!" She screamed at her arm.

Her hand then latched over her wound and began to do something she shouldn't—heal. He didn't get to—his mark was forever. 

She was shoved against the wall, squirming in his grasp. All she wanted to do was heal. She couldn't let another thing be permanent because of _him_.

"Draco! Let go of me!"

He got close—closer than he ever had been. One overbearing breath would have caused their lips to meet, but Draco was cautious. "Are you afraid of me now?" 

Yes, she was afraid. 

"What is wrong with you!" 

The tears drifted down her cheeks, gliding side to side as she shook her head. The rims of her eyelids burned red like the blood slowly dripping from her laceration. Only when she opened her eyes one last time did he see fear, the type of fear that adheres itself to a soul for eternity. _That was far too long_. 

He couldn't get much further in thought since he was shot back, slamming into a desk with boxes and glass items he heard break. He caught a glimpse of her running to the door when he looked up. 

" _Colloportus!_ " He spat.

The handle wouldn't budge and before she was able to say another incantation, she was grabbed. 

"Let go of me! Please!"

"I didn't mean for it to get this far." Draco trembled.

He flipped her around to face him and he grabbed the sides of her head and began searching for the new, developing memory. 

"Stop! Please!"

Since it was fresh, it took only seconds and he began to alter it—change her view of him—eliminate her fear. He couldn't explain the reason why to himself—there was no time. There may never have been enough time for him to come up with a reason why. 'Why' was a complicated question with an undesired answer.

_Penelope went and found Draco in the old Muggle Studies classroom to ask him a question about the Draught of Peace potion they needed to know for their exam. He answered it perfectly, and before she was about to leave, she helped him move a few items, but only after heavily insisting several times. One fell and a broken vase slit her forearm_.

Her screams and tears stopped abruptly as though nothing had happened. After examining her features, he took her wrist and began to heal her wound. 

Penelope looked up. " _Oh_ —thank you." She said, lowly.

She was embarrassed. Embarrassed for something that wasn't even true. Something that didn't even happen. All because of him.

He didn't feel bad—he couldn't. She had been warned. Just like the _Prophet_ explained, he was evil— _they_ all were. Plus, it wasn't like she hadn't lied before. She lied to Granger many times for him. How could this be much different?

"How are you able to do that?" She asked, innocently.

 _It worked, she didn't remember_.

"What?" He mumbled softly, taking her by surprise.

"You're healing me without saying the spells." Penelope's eyes fluttered up. "I know very few healers who could do that, even during the—." She paused. 

"You can say 'war'." His eyes met hers after hiding behind the hairs on his eyelids, then quickly back to her forearm when her gaze became catastrophic. "I've— _erm_ —had to use it."

It no longer mattered how much he told her, he could just make her forget again.

"But using it a few times wouldn't—."

"It wasn't just a few times!" He barked. 

Silence filled the air like clouds during a storm. It wasn't the bearable, immersive silence like before. It was a deafening silence. A silence people got caught in like the rain dropping at the most inconvenient time. He had never been in a silence like this. He had never cared what anyone thought of him to that extreme. But when the lightning finally strikes, it's too late, it's lethal—she was lethal.

He had to make it stop. "My parents—they made mistakes." Another glance from his eyes revealed she was no longer watching his expressions, just watching his work. For once, she was minding herself. Curious. "The mistakes were unforgivable to _Him_. _He_ handled things—the way _He_ always did." He paused for a few seconds. "Working on my own helped me for when I found my parents at night."

"You don't need to tell me—."

"I'm almost done." He said, hastily. The last bits of skin formed over and left behind a small, faint scar. If he handled things quicker, there would have been no scar.

"Draco—."

"Stop." He dropped her arm and trudged over to his bag. "You can go."

Penelope didn't want to push since the traditional ways of comforting weren't his style. So comforting was not what she did. 

She examined her newly healed arm and recalled her memory—it was hazy—but she remembered the vase. "Let me clean up the pieces before I leave." She stepped towards the old professor's desk and saw no vase smashed on the ground and no shards on the desk. "Where are the broken pieces?" 

He didn't look back. "I've cleaned it up already." He was short with his words, not unusual for Draco. 

"How did you have time to—I mean—it broke and—then you grabbed my wrist. When did you clean it up?"

He huffed loudly and rolled his shoulders back. "Well, I did."

Every time she recollected her thoughts on what had just happened, nothing was clear. Pieces of the event didn't add up. It all only became crystal when he began to heal her. _Strange_. She blamed the adrenaline and reached for her bag. "Well, thank you." Embarrassment soaked in again. He had to heal her and clean up after her mess. _Idiot_. 

She was out the door and he was left alone with no pain in his arm, but with a sinking feeling in his stomach—guilt, he remembered it as. He hadn't had that feeling in a while. 

He brushed it off and left once he was sure she was far enough away. 

After studying for a few hours, Penelope and Hermione met their friends at dinner. Ginny and Dean were fresh from practice, but this didn't stop Dean from giving Penelope a wet kiss. 

"One more because I missed you." Dean smirked, and Penelope leaned in for another. 

Seamus stopped his nightly seminar about the _Daily Prophet_. "Get a room!"

"Jealous, Seamus?" Ginny interjected, with a laugh. 

"Of course, not. It's just a bit inappropriate for them two to be smooching while we're eating."

Dean's elbow met Seamus. "Shove it."

"What did the _Prophet_ say?" Penelope asked Seamus, skipping over his last remark. She hated to admit it, but she was actually curious about what Seamus was talking about.

"Says four more Death Eaters got sentenced to life in Azkaban."

"That's it?" A nearby fourth-year Gryffindor asked.

Hermione scoffed. "What do you mean 'that's it'? There are loads in Azkaban already." 

"Not nearly enough." Seamus added. " _Oh_ —and there's the Ministry's next victim." His head nudged towards the entrance.

"Malfoy? That isn't till after graduation." Dean said.

Seamus chuckled lightly. "Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy's trial is sometime after break though."

Penelope's interest peaked. "Why would they separate their trials?"

"Guess the Ministry wanted to make young Malfoy suffer longer." Seamus smirked. 

Hermione shook her head. "That's not something McGonagall would allow." 

"You really think McGonagall has a say?"

"Well— _yes_."

Seamus laughed. "You'd be wrong."

Ginny snatched the paper from his hand. "What did I tell you about getting your facts from that bloody paper?" She scolded, making Seamus go red in the face.

"I'm just surprised he's even at dinner." Penelope mumbled, before taking a bite of her dinner. Although, she was more surprised to see him sit beside Theo and Blaise.

Dean looked at her. "He hasn't been coming dinner?"

She hastened her food down her throat. " _Erm_ —haven't you noticed?"

Her friends shook their heads, but Seamus was quick to respond. " _Oh_ , I've noticed, all right. Got to be careful around _them_."

After a relieving breath, Penelope looked across the room again. She began to feel strange every time she looked at Draco but she couldn't understand why. As her thoughts scrambled throughout her mind, she watched as Theo propped his arm around Draco. 

"Dinner hasn't been the same without you." Theo expressed, freeing Draco's shoulders

"I'm sure you were just fine." Draco responded, coldly. 

Theo chortled. "See, without you, there are none of those puckish comments."

Draco was shocked when Theo had approached him in the hall earlier, and even though Theo's opinion matter very little to him, he was pleased to have a distraction and reason to go to the Great Hall. 

And maybe, there was a sliver of him that did miss Theo—not a big piece, _of course_. 

"You've obviously met Daphne before—" Theo began, receiving a subtle scoff from Pansy. "—but I don't remember if you've met Astoria."

The brunette reached her hand over the table. "I'm Astoria Greengrass."

"I know who you are." Draco groaned, but noticed her hand remained in the air. He shook it carelessly while catching a glimpse of Pansy holding in a laugh from across the table. 

Astoria's features were similar to Daphne's: high cheekbones, a warm, ivory complexion, and big brown eyes. There were very few differences; Daphne's hair was blonde while Astoria's was a deep brown and Astoria was a sixth year, making Draco befuddled to the reason why she was sitting with them. 

"I wanted to be introduced to the _famous_ Draco Malfoy." Astoria smiled.

"Famous?" Draco scoffed. "You mean from the fucking _Prophet?_ You think me being in the paper because I'm a Death Eater makes me famous?"

"That topic is a bit dodgy." Theo warned Astoria, who seemed unfazed. "Who's been keeping you company while I wasn't around, Draco?"

Pansy was quick to speak. "Me, no thanks to you."

Theo waved his finger between Pansy and Draco with a curious look on his face. "So you two?"

"Of course, not!" Pansy exclaimed. "I can be friends with someone without being attracted to them!" 

Draco raised a brow at her while Theo smirked. "You can be attracted to whomever you please, Parkinson."

"Not like I need your permission, anyways." Pansy stabbed her fork into whatever meat laid before her.

Daphne tapped on the table to attract Theo's attention. "Tell me about your day, _Theodore._ " 

Pansy rolled her eyes and forced a conversation between Draco and Blaise. 

After dinner, Daphne and Astoria headed for the Slytherin common room while the remaining four went to the Head common room. 

"' _Tell me about your day, Theodore_.' Fucking hell. She even has to call you by your full name to feel special." Pansy criticized.

Sitting beside Pansy on the couch, Theo released the smoke after removing the cigarette from his lips. "Ever thought that maybe I did like being called by my full name?"

"Do you?"

He smirked into his cigarette. "Never thought about it."

"Well—I know you don't." She muttered. 

Blaise dropped the _Prophet_ onto his lap from the couch across. "Shouldn't you be checking the corridors?"

"Someone's covering for me tonight."

"Covering?" Blaise scoffed beside Draco.

Theo laughed. "Don't be such a wet blanket, Blaise."

"A wet what?" 

"A prick." Draco finally added. "You're acting like a prick. Let her stay."

Pansy wouldn't dare let her smile show when she looked over to Draco, who was laying deep into the cushions, letting his forearm rest on the arm of the couch, watching the smoke glide into the air from the tip of his cigarette.

Blaise leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and pointing his stick at Pansy. "Fine, but tomorrow, you're back to your normal duties." 

"Alright, alright." Pansy huffed.

The door opened abruptly and displayed two girls giggling before one had noticed the crowd.

"Oh." Hermione blurted, ignoring their _activity_. "Just passing through." The two girls began walking in, neither one paying any attention towards the group.

Only then did Pansy notice Draco sit up and put out his cigarette as soon as his attention anchored to the second girl—Penelope. The two girls reached Hermione's room and the group heard a door shut above. 

"No fucking way." Pansy giggled into her hand. 

A curious look smothered Theo's face. "What?"

"Not that it matters, _Theodore_ , but Draco and I are going to go for a walk." Pansy stood and flicked her wand, pulling Draco out to the hall by his tie.


	9. Chapter 9

The door slammed behind Draco and he was quick to speak. "Let go of me!" 

Pansy let down her wand and drooped it alongside her thigh. " _Oh_ , don't be dramatic." She snapped, laying her shoulder against the wall, watching as Draco adjusted his tie and tucked it neatly back into his robes. 

His focus fixed to a scowl once done. "What the fuck do you want?"

The humorous look on her face remained. "I'm sure you don't want me to talk about this here."

"No one is—." 

Pansy's wand flicked and flung the door open, knocking Theo back whilst he grappled his hand to his cheek. "We have listeners."

She heard Draco mumble a few swears before he stomped off in the opposite direction. She took it as a sign to follow. 

After, what felt like, a journey across the castle, they were standing in one of the open corridors, looking down at an empty courtyard. 

Draco took out a cigarette and studied the stick as he rested his elbows on the ledge. He then looked at the girl beside him whose body was leaning against the stone post. "Can you explain why we needed to be in a secluded location for you to tell me something?"

"The girl."

"What fucking girl?" He knew exactly what _girl_. 

Pansy glanced at him. "Don't play dumb Draco, it doesn't suit you."

"Give me a hint." The sarcasm was almost hidden by the dullness of his voice.

"Burton." Pansy said, watching as Draco pushed himself off the ledge and stuffed his unused cigarette back into his pocket. "So it's true?"

"What the fuck are you on about?" He adjusted his sleeves, keeping his eyes as far from Pansy's as he could. 

"Penelope Burton is the reason for skipping all those meals, not Theo." He didn't even need to look to hear her smirk. "Isn't that right?"

"No." His tone was neutral. "But thank you for wasting my time." His feet began to move whilst his hands filled his pockets, but only after a few steps, his body slammed into the air, forcing him to stumble back. 

Pansy placed her wand back into her robes. "Why Burton out of everyone?"

Draco faced her with a scowl. "Burton? _Please_." He flicked his head up in arrogance.

"Oh, Draco, you are so horrible at deflecting."

"Fuck off!"

Pansy shook her head and clicked her tongue. "I don't want to have to tell Theo about your— _interests_."

"You don't get to threaten me, _Parkinson!_ " Draco barked, tugging out his wand and pointing it at the woman. "Don't you fucking dare tell Theo because it's not _fucking_ true!" He waved his wand in the air, dissolving whatever barrier Pansy placed. "It's not fucking true." He muttered under his breath as he began to stomp away.

"I'll keep your secret, Draco." Pansy smirked, her voice just loud enough for him to hear.

Draco's only response was a hefty sigh as he took the corner. 

November arrived. 

It was not something Draco found intoxicating.

 _It was just another month closer._

"Mind hurrying?" An annoyed tone stuck to Seamus's voice. 

Ginny slowed the pace at which she brought the sausage to her mouth in spite of his comment.

"Seriously Seamus, it's not going to make any difference if we are the first ones waiting." Hermione snapped, sliding her plate to the side. "And can you _just_ sit still?"

Seamus took his foot off the seat and sat down beside Dean. "I'm just excited for Hogsmeade. I finally get to take a lady on a proper date."

"And who was lucky enough to have been asked by you?" Penelope asked, hiding her giggle better than Ginny,

"Well, since you're taken, I thought I'd try my luck with a lady from Ravenclaw."

Penelope dropped her cheek into her palm and quirked her brow in amusement. "Her name?"

Seamus beamed and fixed his gaze over Ginny's shoulder towards the Ravenclaw table. " _Amy_." 

Ginny couldn't help but let a laugh escape at the way he said the girl's name. "You're already lovestruck by a girl you've barely been near?" She asked.

Grimace replaced his smile. "I don't exactly see Harry around giving you any _love_."

The corner of Ginny's lip rose. "Well, that's because he's an Auror. _Oh_ , isn't that the job you _begged_ for?"

"Take that..." Seamus's voice became the background noise for Dean and Penelope's conversation.

"It will be our first date outside of the school." Dean beamed, taking Penelope's hand from across the table

"What do you have planned?" Penelope asked. Her voice was soft as it left her smile. 

"I figured we could go to that one bookshop—"

"—Tomes and Scrolls!" Penelope interrupted. 

Dean laughed as he bounced their intertwined fingers up and down. "Yes, is that alright?"

"Of course! Then where?"

"I just assumed we'd join the group at Three Broomsticks." Penelope kept her grin but she didn't quite think hanging around her friends, drinking butterbeer, was a date. She shrugged it off and joined the conversation happening around her. 

"Neville, the worst that can happen is Luna says no." Ginny assured, but Neville just looked more anxious. 

"I don't want that to happen!"

Ginny looked to Hermione for help. "Alright, Neville, do you want to remember this Hogsmeade trip as the time you were bold or the time you were too scared." Hermione put her fists on the table. "You just got to do it!"

Neville pulled his frown up and tugged his fingers through his hair once more, revealing the deep lines in his forehead. "You're right. The time is now." 

"Exactly, Neville." He rose from his seat. "Wait, like _right_ now?" 

He shrugged at the group. "It's now or never."

"Well, I was thinking he should ask her down at Hogsmeade, but I guess now is good." Ginny muttered. 

"Go, Neville!" Seamus cheered as Neville walked over to the Ravenclaw table, causing his cheeks to glow red.

Dean cleared his throat and leaned into the group. "Now, what are the chances she says 'yes'?" 

"Slim, but I like his determination." Ginny remarked, glancing over her shoulder to see the scene play out. 

Penelope did as Ginny. "I'd say he has a better chance of getting a girl than Seamus, and Seamus got a girl." The girls giggled and Seamus scoffed.

Neville reached the table and began asking the blonde girl his question. The group could only see Neville's back so they were all relying on the look Luna gave. "What's she saying?" Seamus asked, earning a nudge and a shush from Hermione.

The blonde girl spoke, but nothing anybody could hear, and her smile remained the same as when he approached. 

Neville then flipped on his heels, looked at his friends, and raised both of his thumbs to the group with his cheesy grin. The group got to their feet and clapped and cheered for the man walking back. 

This gained the attention of most of the students in the Great Hall, but one set of eyes was the one Penelope cared to search for. 

It was a set attached to her in the midst of his conversation. A set taking her out of place. A set she knew was on her before she and her friends shouted. 

But there was a twinge in her stomach—a sinking feeling. She'd been feeling it for a couple of days—only when she saw Draco. And, although unease would take over, she couldn't help but look to feel her heart throb just for a single moment. Or for a sharp prick to drive down her spine. Or even for a slight wave of heat to splash her cheeks. Or for—.

Dean's yelling brought her back. "Yes, Neville!"

"Can you not embarrass me?" Neville questioned, taking his seat.

Ginny gave Neville a light nudge. "Come on, Neville. You finally got the girl."

Neville's embarrassment quickly dissolved into elation. "You're right! Oh my—I...I got the girl!" He turned to a fifth year sitting on the other side of him. "I got the girl!"

"Alright, Neville! We get it, you got the girl!" Seamus groused, before directing his attention towards Hermione. "Can we go already? I see the sixth years walking out."

Hermione grunted and slapped her palm onto the table. "Fine, Seamus, but if you are the reason we get to wait in the cold, you're not going to like what I'll do to you." She rose from her seat and began to follow the other students out.

"Oh, was that a threat?" Seamus muttered.

Ginny threw what was left of her sausage at him. "No, that was a promise."

The group waited with the other students for well over ten minutes, which allowed for Seamus to gain a slap on his arm from Ginny and a few pokes at his chest from Hermione. Snow hadn't begun to fall at the school yet but the icy breeze could be felt almost in the students' bones. It wasn't long before a member of the group spat a warming charm.

The arrival of Draco and his friends—especially the Greengrass sisters—didn't go unnoticed by Penelope before McGonagall addressed the rules of the students' trip to Hogsmeade. With a flick of McGonagall's hands, the students began to follow the Auror down.

Dean's arm sludged over Penelope's shoulder as they walked. "So Three Broomsticks after?"

Hermione looked over her shoulder. "After?"

"Yes, I'm taking Pen to that one bookshop...what's the name?"

"Tomes and Scrolls." Penelope answered.

Ginny was next to look back. "You two are so cute, it's almost embarrassing." Hermione nudged Ginny and the two laughed. 

Dean looked down at Penelope. "Are you excited for—." He was interrupted by a man from behind.

"Penelope!" Penelope peeked over her shoulder to find the owner of the shouting to be Theo. Just like his friends, his hands were stuffed in his pockets and he didn't seem to be making any effort to meet her in the middle. Her head shook and she faced forward. 

"Penelope!" This time it was Dean who looked back. "Is that Theodore Nott? Why would he be calling for you?" Penelope couldn't tell if he was being protective or jealous. Both made her slightly cringe—she'd been working on that.

"Penelope!" 

She shook Dean's arm off. "I'll be back."

"Wha—why are you going to talk to him?"

"I've— _erm_ —I'll just be back." To Dean's dismay, she left his side and began walking towards Theo.

As she approached, his amusement didn't adjust her displeased look. "What do you want?"

Theo looked to Blaise and Draco before slowing his pace so he was a few steps behind. He then gave an indication for her to walk beside him. 

"I want to...apologize." Theo finally said, just loud enough for her to hear. 

Penelope's brow quirked up at the man. "For what?"

"Well...for what happened in the Head common room." 

It seemed unlike Theo to apologize, but she was beginning to learn many things about people she had made assumptions about before. "Why now?"

Theo's hands shuffled in his pockets. "It was brought to my attention."

"By who?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, but I want to know."

Theo's sigh was nearly undetectable. "Draco."

"You wouldn't have said anything without him, would you?" Penelope criticized, before shaking her head.

"Yes, I would—."

"When then?" Penelope humored. 

His attention was now forward as they walked. "Well...in the common room."

"I've seen you plenty of times there already."

A groan formed in his throat. "I _am_ sorry!" A few students looked back, including Daphne and Pansy.

Penelope smirked as he pulled the edge of his coat down and gave it a light pat. "Well, thank you for the apology." She said, tapping his arm. "I now need to get back to my boyfriend." Before he could speak another word, she was back under the arm of Dean. 

Tomes and Scrolls was packed full of students, barely allowing for Penelope to maneuver around the shop. After minutes of sorting through books, Penelope found the one she wanted and headed for the counter with Dean close behind. 

"Don't touch that!" The new shop worker yelled towards a fifth year, before trudging over to meet Penelope at the counter. Grey ringlets framed the woman's face while her black pointed hat covered the top of her head. " _Inevitable Witches Brew_ , nice choice!" Penelope was surprised at how quickly her mood had changed.

" _Oh_ , yes, my friend was—."

"Two galleons, even." The woman interrupted, clearly not interested in conversation.

Penelope reached into her pocket but Dean placed two gold coins on the counter. 

"You didn't need to." Penelope told him.

Dean kissed the top of her head. "I wanted to!"

"Well, thank you."

The woman snatched the coins off and trudged over to another section of the shop to yell at another group of students. "No touching those!" Penelope and Dean left quickly and walked over to the Three Broomsticks. 

The laughing in the back of the place made it easy to distinguish their friends' table. They made their way over, and before taking a seat, Dean tugged lightly on the back of Penelope's coat and she let it drop. He then propped it on the back of her chair.

"Seriously, Dean, where was this chivalry when we were together?" Ginny teased.

Dean took a seat beside Penelope and gave Ginny a face. " _Oh_ , trust me, I tried."

"You _were_ quite difficult to please." Hermione added in with a giggle, sipping on a glass full of—what Penelope assumed was—butterbeer. 

"I was not!" Ginny replied, a bit of humor and annoyance filling her voice.

Hermione slid a glass full of the same butterscotch-colored liquid to Penelope. "What about the time you gave Dean a thirty-minute lecture on why he shouldn't kiss you at night?" Penelope questioned, obtaining a laugh from Hermione and Dean.

"He eats too many things with garlic—no offense." Ginny said, tipping her glass towards Dean.

Dean shrugged in agreeance. "No offense taken."

"Alright, what about the time you made Dean swear to never hold the door open for you after one too many times." Hermione asked.

"It can get rather annoying." Ginny explained, swirling the liquid in her glass. "Alright, fine! I _can_ be hard to please."

"Well, at least Harry can deal with your madness." Hermione replied.

Dean raised his glass. "Cheers to that." All the girls followed suit and clinked their glasses together.

Penelope took a sip and placed her glass on the table. "Where's Neville?" 

Hermione nodded her head towards a table across the room.

"On the date, already?" Dean asked, slyly watching Neville and Luna over his shoulder. "Is it going alright?"

"She did grab for his hand at one point." Ginny whispered. 

"Good. I was worried we were going to be in the Gryffindor common room calming him down later." Penelope laughed.

"I was not going to be in the mood to be giving an uplifting talk." Ginny said, shaking her head. Hermione elbowed her. "What? I said 'was'!"

"And Seamus?" Penelope asked.

Hermione gave a shrug. "I guess on a date with that Ravenclaw somewhere. What was her name?"

"Not sure. Something with an 'A'." Ginny replied, before placing her glass to her lips. 

Dean snapped his fingers and pointed at Hermione. "Amy!"

"Right, _Amy_. He's on a date with Amy." Hermione recited. 

Ginny and Hermione both glanced at something behind Penelope while the place nearly went silent. Penelope took a glimpse behind her shoulder to discover Draco and his group of friends enter the building. The conversations in the pub only continued after Pansy dropped her bag on a table, completely ignoring the individuals staring in the room. 

"Sit!" Pansy demanded, tapping the seat beside her for Draco. He took the seat with a grunt. Theo sat across from Pansy, Daphne beside him, Blaise on the other side of Pansy, and to Draco's disliking, Astoria took a seat next to him. 

"Those fucking idiots gave me the wrong quill!" Blaise blurted, scrambling through his bag. 

Theo laughed, ignoring Blaise's glares. "Don't you already have one?"

"Yes, _Theo_ , but different types of quills can be used for different types of tasks." Blaise sounded as though he was explaining it to a six-year-old. Daphne rubbed her hand along Theo's arm as she giggled. 

Pansy propped her chin into her palm in annoyance. "Where's the service?" 

"I could bet the Death Eater in the room might be halting the waiter." Theo replied, noticing the scowl Draco was giving. "Mate, you'd be lying to yourself if you didn't admit it."

Astoria stood, sliding a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll get it then." Her finger trailed Draco's right shoulder. "Butterbe—?"

"Stronger." Draco spat after having his eyes graze the room, finding the hair of a woman sitting beside that Thomas git he didn't want to see her near. 

"What about for everyone else?" Astoria asked. 

Theo pricked his finger up. "I'll take whatever Draco is having."

"Butterbeer." Pansy said after and Blaise agreed.

Daphne stood. "I'll help." The Greengrass sisters walked away from the table to get their drinks. 

"You're either blind or dense." Theo said, leaning his head closer to Draco. 

"Carefully choose your next words, Nott." Draco warned.

"You need something to occupy your time." Theo said. "A female...companion."

Draco's eyes directed their attention back to the woman across the room—a woman with streaks of honey running through her hair—a woman with an arm tightly occupying her waist. _Fucking git._

"Astoria." Theo blurted, noticing the face Draco was now giving back. "Daphne told me Astoria is interested."

"Is that the reason for her being around all the time? Because she has a _fucking_ crush on me?" Draco spat, lowly.

"Look, you need someone to take your mind off— _things_. This is the perfect solution."

Pansy scoffed. "Is that what Daphne is to you?" She asked.

"Don't worry your pretty little mind about my personal life." Theo smirked. 

A small glass was placed in front of Draco and a glass full of butterscotch-colored liquid was placed before Pansy. "Here we are." Astoria said as she sat. Daphne delivered the glasses to Blaise and Theo.

"Did we miss anything important?" Astoria asked, grinning at her sister. 

Draco rolled his eyes, dropping them back on the woman across the room. Her hair rested on her back, drifting up slightly as she laughed at something Granger had said. And Thomas watched her closely, almost determining if he should laugh based on if she was. Did she really want someone who didn't have their own opinion? 

Maybe it was easy. Maybe he needed something easy as well. Astoria could be what he assumed Thomas was to her. A time filler. 

Was it fucked up? Yes—but he didn't give a fuck. Azkaban was patiently waiting for his arrival. 

Draco lifted the small glass full of a brown liquid. "What is this?"

"Firewhiskey. You said you wanted something stronger." Astoria replied.

Draco's eyes found their way over to Penelope once again, her chin now in between Dean's index and thumb, guiding her towards a kiss. A peck—no, not a peck. A fucking snog. Snogging in the middle of a fucking pub. 

She didn't seem the type. Perhaps he didn't actually know her.

The brown liquid shot down his throat, a habit he was far too used to. 

"You know it's bad luck not to take it with your mate?" Theo moaned, holding his small glass between his fingers. 

The legs of Draco's chair scraped the wood and he stood. "Order another round then. I'll be back."

Pansy flipped around to watch him walk out. "And where are you going?"

"I said 'I'll be back'." 

And then he was outside.

Penelope heard whispers around her of Draco's departure. She needed to speak to him and now was as good of a time as any. Theo apologizing was the excuse—no, the reason. Or maybe it was an excuse. She didn't care to figure it out. It had been well over a week since any conversation between them. She _needed_ to talk to him. 

After minutes of biting the nail on her thumb and mindlessly listening to her friends' conversation, Penelope told them she needed to check if Tomes and Scrolls had a charmed bookmark she could purchase. Dean offered to walk down, and even pay, but Penelope explained it would be quick. 

The breeze sunk within her coat once outside, shifting her hair behind her shoulders and tickling her neck. Draco had to of been nearby since he wouldn't have gone into any of the shops with the attention it causes. 

Penelope's shoes began along the walkway towards the destination she told her friends, assuming Draco would come up.

"Burton!" She froze, grinning at the sound of her name in the voice, turning only when she was called twice. 

"Yes." Her voice had a hint of sarcasm as she made her way over.

Draco stood, leaning the top part of his back against the outside of the Three Broomsticks, in between the pub and another shop. It was warmer as she approached, making her assume he had cast a warming charm. An unlit cigarette rolled in between his index and thumb, laying beside his thigh. His hair was disheveled, lifting in places when the breeze swept past. 

"It's perplexing—" Draco peeled his back off the wall. "—Thomas letting you walk alone, I mean."

Penelope stopped when she was a few steps away—a cautious distance. "I told him to stay."

"Oh, and he listens to commands. You trained him well."

Penelope pushed back the few strands of hair tickling her cheek. "Is there a reason you called me over or did you want to only insult Dean?" 

Draco brought the cigarette to eye level and studied its intricate details. "I think that's the only reason."

A slight _hmm_ formed in her throat and she flipped on her heels, beginning her walk to Tomes and Scrolls. 

Draco fell back against the wall and groaned. "Where are you going?"

Once again, she froze, grinning to herself but this time for a different reason. She tested him—did he care for a conversation? 

He answered it.

She turned to face him. "Tomes and Scrolls."

"Why?"

"Let's not pretend you actually care." Penelope approached Draco again, keeping enough distance away. "Why did you tell Theo to apologize?"

His head fell forward, looking down at his feet as they crossed. "I did nothing. If he apologized, then he did it for his own reasons." 

"How come when every time I believe you hate me, you do something to prove me wrong."

His head lifted, allowing his eyes to glance in her direction. "Perhaps I enjoy proving you wrong."

"Do you?"

"Depends."

"Depends on what?"

Draco pushed himself off the wall and took a step forward. "Did it make you think about me?"

"No." She lied.

"Perhaps I enjoy pulling lies out of your mouth."

Penelope combed her hair behind her shoulder. "I don't lie."

"And another one bites the dust."

"Screw off, Draco. You don't do things to make me think of you. Why do you do them?" Penelope asked.

He was now another step closer. "Perhaps I do just _hate_ you and I do these things for my own benefit." His voice lost all sarcasm and became harsh, piercing the breeze shifting between the two.

Her lungs felt tight with each breath, forcing her to whisper. "You don't hate me." 

He could read her uncertainty as if she were words in a book. "I _do_ hate you." Draco snarled. 

Partly true.

His cigarette met his lips and he prepared to light it but she ripped it out, holding it before his face. "These are going to kill you." She scolded.

He took another step forward, barely allowing any breeze to drift between their bodies. "Yeah? Well hopefully before I reach Azkaban."

A flash of light stunned the two and they both looked beside them, discovering a large camera and a thin woman approaching. Once Penelope's eyes fully adjusted back, she could see the woman standing in a bright red dress suit with her blonde hair tucked neatly into a bun. 

"Rita Skeeter, _Daily Prophet_." She greeted, reaching her hand across for Penelope. 

Penelope dropped the unlit cigarette before cautiously greeting her hand. She noticed Draco slyly lift his foot and smooshed the white stick into the ground. 

Rita didn't seem to care to shake the hand of the Death Eater standing before her while she flipped out her notepad. 

"It is a real pain to squeeze past all those Aurors, I mean, why would any Death Eaters want to come here anyway?" Rita complained, noticing no change in the discomforted faces of the two standing. "Well, anyway, how long have you two been together?"

"We aren't—" Penelope and Draco both started.

"It must be a true scandal! Harry Potter's friend and a Death Eater!"

"Are you _fucking_ serious?" Draco barked, stepping away from Penelope.

A pain met his forearm—similar yet somehow very different. It was like a fire was dancing along the tips of his skin, tracing the mark's every curve. A sensation not familiar to his memory. A carving was still breaching within, but this was more intolerable—more excruciating— _too intense_. 

Penelope noticed. 

"We aren't together." Penelope informed Rita, glancing her eyes over to the man standing uncomfortably beside her, holding in his pain.

Draco noticed.

"Don't _fucking_ say anything." His words were sharp, yet only a whisper in the air.

Rita scribbled away on her notepad, ignoring their responses. "How did the war hero take the news?"

Draco pushed past the thin woman, causing her to stumble and scoff. "And how will the relationship last once he is in Azkaban?" Rita asked, after gaining her stability.

Penelope groaned and walked past the blonde and her cameraman, following the direction Draco went.

"Could you point me in the direction of Hermione Granger for her statement?" Rita shouted, her voice staying a consistent distance from Penelope, her heels clicking along the walkway. Another flash of light and a loud click sounded behind Penelope. "Oh, alright!" Penelope heard her shout, and she turned to find a man, in a cloak, take Rita by her arm.

"Skeeter, you know the rules!" The Auror scolded, pulling her away. 

"Just another five minutes!"

He tugged her closer and began walking her away.

A relieving breath left Penelope's lungs as her body poured against the entrance to the Three Broomsticks, analyzing her thoughts. Processing Skeeter's words became difficult when Penelope repetitively denied any association with _him_. 

The door her back laid against pushed open and she gripped the handle, letting the pupils exit before stepping inside. Her feet lead her over to her friends, catching the attention of Hermione who paused her laugh to smile at the girl. 

She ignored the patch of blonde hair in the portion of the pub she passed and ignored the thoughts protruding her mind. 

Hermione caught her up on the few key points of Neville's date that was occurring across the pub. Ginny made sure to add in a few jokes in between and Dean kept stroking the top of her hand, bringing her out of any delusional thoughts she would later kick herself for having. 

"Did they have the bookmark?" Dean asked.

" _Oh_ , there were no more left." Penelope lied, something Draco kept constantly getting Penelope to do—or it was just an easy enough excuse for her to not feel guilty.

"You can borrow one of mine." Hermione offered, and Penelope thanked her after.

"Too bad, you seemed excited about it." Dean said, sloshing a section of her hair, draping against her face, behind her ear.

A gulp of butterbeer drained down her throat. "I was." Penelope mumbled, into her glass.

And there it was. _Guilt_.


End file.
